Christmas Eve Day

Hard to believe it's Christmas Eve day.  It certainly doesn't feel like Christmas.  The past 4 weeks have just been a blur with Mom's illness. That has been our focus while also juggling "life" in general.  The days have blurred together and I don't know where time goes.  Between the combination of work, taking care of my home and household responsibilities (you know, bills, laundry, cleaning, etc), keeping an eye on Mom's home and taking care of things there as well, visiting Mom and spending time with her each day, and somewhere in there, getting ready for Christmas, life has been a blur.  Most days start at 5:30 am and end around midnight.

The only good thing is that I haven't had the time to miss and grieve Ed at this time of year.  My mind is totally occupied with way too many things that I need to do and remember to do, that there hasn't been time to sit idly and realize this will be our second Christmas without Ed.  And even through Mom's illness and her being in the exact same rooms at Ed in the ICU did not bother me.

Yesterday Mom got a blood transfusion though and she was on 3 North at Cooley...where Ed was when his health declined significantly and he took his last breath.  Sitting in that room, although in the opposite corridor from where Ed was, brought back so many memories.  The look and feel of the room.  The bed where I said my final goodbye to Ed.  This was harder.  It did not bring tears at that time (it does now) but rather this strange awkward feeling that was hard to put my finger on.

But again, no time to sit idle and focus on these feelings...too much to do.  I am so looking forward to having the next 5 days off from work.  Dan is home and our Christmas Eve will be traditional going to Mass and visiting Ed's side of the family.  Christmas Day will be totally different not going to my Mother's.  But we'll visit Mom and then we're looking forward to just having a low-key day at home doing who knows what.

At some level I fear these next 5 days--fear that as I relax, grief or illness will catch me.  If it doesn't happen this week, then there's always next week.  With New Year's I've got another 5 days off from work.  I'm so looking forward to a slower pace--no work and no shopping and prep for the holidays.  Just relax and enjoy the sounds and sights of Christmas and no more hustle and bustle of the holidays.  I know I will reflect on all the Christmases and New Years that I've shared with Ed and that were so special and defined most of my life.  But I hope I will remember them fondly and with less heartache.

Merry Christmas All!

This is actually from Thanksgiving.  How blessed am I to have such a great son!!

He is so helpful when he comes home--cleaned up the driveway on Thanksgiving.
Wish he lived closer but thankful he's close enough to come home often.

LOVE Christmas decorations and lights!

Our tree...  Thankful that Ed decided to buy a pre-lit artificial tree for what would be our last Christmas together.
For a guy who insisted on a fresh cut tree every year, this was quite a change.  It certainly makes it so much easier for me now.  He knew...

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

And starting to feel like it as well.  Last weekend I put up some decorations--not all of them, but enough to make it begin to look like Christmas.  And every night the candles in the windows and the outdoor decorations greet me after a long day at work and visiting Mom.

Mom continues to make progress.  Last week she moved out of the ICU to a rehab facility in Leeds.  We expect she'll be there a few weeks so we have postponed our family Christmas celebration until she gets back home.

Juggling work, being there for Mom, taking care of the house, and getting ready for Christmas has kept me extremely busy.  I have had to cancel/postpone some social engagements and I haven't made it to choir in weeks.  I've also cut way back on my baking, yet I did make some fudge, brickle, and even attempted peanut brittle for the first time (I'm told it came out good)!

By some miracle I got my Christmas cards mailed this weekend and I finally started wrapping gifts.

But even with the hustle and bustle of the holidays and life in general, yesterday while at the grocery store, I found myself singing along to the Christmas music playing overhead.  A light snow that had fallen the night before covered the ground and flurries continued to fall outside.  It certainly was feeling more like Christmas.  And I was surprised when I realized that, even with the stress of my Mom's illness and getting ready for Christmas, I was happily singing along to the Christmas carols.  After I got home, I did some baking and the smells of cranberry nut bread filled the air while Christmas music played.  I find peace in the lights of the Christmas tree and the decorations bring back years of memories.  Memories that bring warmth to my heart.

Yes, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas and it's beginning to feel like it as well...

Sigh...

It's the weekend!  Sigh...  Life has been so hectic lately I'm hoping the weekend gives me a bit of a chance to breath a little, although I doubt it will happen since I have a long list of things to do.

Mom continues to be in the hospital in ICU.  She is making small progress for which we are extremely grateful.  She's not 100% stable yet but the doctors are watching that and Mom's job is to begin to build up her strength so she can get out of bed and walk a little.  We are so much further along though than where we were two weeks ago.  And for that we are so thankful.  There is just a long road ahead of us.

I continue to visit Mom daily to spend a few hours with her.  This has required adjustments to my work schedule and the days are long, sometimes not getting home until after 9 PM or to bed til midnight.  I realize I'm burning the candle on both ends and that I need to be careful because Mom's recovery will be a long road.

My supervisor and staff at work have been terrific.  When I talked to my supervisor about my work schedule she was so understanding and supportive.  That was so nice and gave me one less thing to worry about.  We agreed that I will continue my week-by-week, play it by ear, through the end of the year and then see where Mom is in the new year.  And my staff are all stepping up and moving things forward more independently.  So even though I can complain like anyone else about work, when push comes to shove, they are supportive and flexible and for that I'm thankful.

This week I put up the Christmas tree so it's beginning to look a bit more like Christmas around here.  I still have shopping to do and cards to send and decorating to do.  I'm being forced to cut out my baking this year.  In years past, I baked over a hundred dozen cookies of different varieties and gave them as gifts.  Last year, with Ed's passing, I knew I had a good reason to stop baking, but I didn't.  I only cut back slightly.  But this year...I just don't have the time with Mom in the hospital.  People will understand but it will be my own guilt that I will need to get over.  I'm getting over it...

When Dan was home recently, he took care of putting the candles in all the windows.  Years ago, Ed had bought some sensor candles that automatically come on when it's dark.  We hadn't been using them for whatever reason.  However, when Dan put out the candles this year, these were the ones he used thinking they were the "right" ones.  Of course, when I got home I had to point out that they weren't the "right" ones, but we left them anyhow.  Now I am thankful because every evening, when I get home after a long day, the candles are there shining in the windows--bright, cheery lights to greet me, welcoming me home.

So there is some feeling of Christmas starting here at home.  It's unlikely Mom will be home for Christmas and so we may choose to postpone our family celebration.  But we'll see.  A lot can happen in two weeks.  I mean, just look back to where we were two weeks ago...

Prayers

Some of you coming to this blog may already know that my mother is in the hospital.  It's hard to believe she's "only" been there 4 days.  It seems much longer.  The days are blurring together and I struggle to figure out what it was I had intended to do over the long Thanksgiving weekend.  But that weekend has come and gone now.

Mom wasn't feeling well last Tuesday (fatigued, chills) but Wednesday she seemed to bounce back even saying how she feels so much better.  On Thursday morning though she still wasn't feeling well so my sisters and I told her to go back to bed and we'd get dinner ready.  The reality is that she had already had everything prepared and had even put the turkey in Thursday morning.  So we just needed to follow her list and take care of the few things that were left.  Mom got up and joined us for some conversation and then some time at the dinner table but she tired easily and so went back to bed.  She rested most of the day but by evening as we prepared to leave, she was shaking.  Independently and together we all came to the conclusion that we could not leave her alone.

We weren't sure whether what she had was a simple flu bug but we were most worried about dehydration because she hadn't drank or eaten much over the past couple days.  We called a friend who is a nurse to review her symptoms who confirmed we should take her to the ER to be checked out.  This is where she was diagnosed with double pneumonia.  She is currently in the ICU and I won't go into a lot of detail here.  We have setup a CaringBridge page (http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/patjasmin) because Sunday was not a good day and we all felt the need for prayers for Mom so we reached out via social media.  Mom has many friends and family and the CaringBridge page was the best way to keep everyone posted on her progress.

I myself prayed for Mom, feeling that God owed us one after last year.  I know that's not how it works, but I asked anyway.  I asked Mike and Ed to come to Mom in her sleep to calm her down so she was less anxious and her breathing would less labored.  If the two of them can't be with us, I felt that they had a purpose on the other side and now was the time to come through.

It is weird to be in the ICU.  Mom is in the exact same room that Ed was in.  Several of her nurses are the same nurses Ed had.  They remember me.  They remember Mom.  I think this calms Mom a little because she "knows" them.  I just pray that our outcome is totally different.

So we continue to pray because it is only Mom's determination and our prayers that will pull her through.  The doctors are giving her the medical treatment she needs, but the rest is up to her.  And so I will continue my prayers and I ask that you do as well.

Mom and me with her friends Donna and Sandy on Friday, Nov 21st.  Dinner before the Singing Priest Concert.

Happy Thanksgiving

Oh, I have been so neglectful at writing.  It's on my "to do" list but it ends up being the one thing I never seem to get to.  So this morning, this Thanksgiving morning, I will pause and take a moment to write.  Of course, this morning is a good day to write.  For Thanksgiving is a good time to stop and appreciate all we have to be thankful for.

As I sit here, in my warm house and I look out the window at the snow covered trees, there is a peace.  We will spend time with family today and I'm thankful for all of them, even when we get on each others nerves.  For even though we can annoy each other, we know, as we learned last year, that we can always count on each other and we'll always have each others back.  I know not all families are like that and so I recognize how lucky I am.

Since I last wrote, there have been both "good" and "bad" moments; "highs" and "lows" in my days.  I'm still trying to find that balance between being wonder woman and maintaining my sanity.  Between proving to the world that I can do it all--work full-time, maintain the house and yard, maintain relationships, volunteer, maintain a busy schedule, and keep a smile on my face--and wanting to crawl under my covers and shut out the entire world and be left alone.  What I've recently realized is that I need to find a balance somewhere in between.  To figure out what I want, what feels right to me, and not what everyone expects.  That is new to me.  To be a bit more selfish.

There are still moments when grief sneaks up on me when I'm not looking and it can still bring me to tears.  I still miss Ed more than I can express in words.  And I suppose this will never change.  What I'm also realizing is that in addition to just missing him, having him being here, is that I'm missing how he made me feel.  To have someone who was always watching out for me.  Someone who made me feel special.  Someone who loved me and cherished me and, yes, spoiled me.  Life can be lonely now.

So I find now that I devote a good portion of my time in maintaining friendships that I've made over the past year.  At times I think I spread myself too thin and so I'm beginning to figure out which of these relationships are most important to me and give them priority.

And I do, especially on this Thanksgiving, appreciate the good in my life.  For I do have many blessings and I appreciate and celebrate the joyful moments and the successes in my life.  Over the past couple weeks, I've intended to update the blog to share these moments.  But I didn't get to it, so today, I look back and want to share some of these "good" moments.

• The woman in my choir who, for no particular reason, gave me flowers just to cheer me up.  Who is always thinking of me and offering her support.  I truly, truly believe you are an angel on earth.  I cannot think of you without smiling.
• Recognizing that I was able to go to the Holiday Remembrance Service for Ed and remember him lovingly and without ending up in a ball of tears.  I met another woman there who lost her husband 5 months ago (about where I was last year) who commented on how well I seemed to be doing.  I gave her hope that she too will eventually emerge from the depths of grief.  What an eye-opener for me to recognize the change in me in a year.
• Being able to succeed at things around the house.  Although the leaf pickup did bring me to tears at times, I finished the task and before the snow fell.  In fact, I'm proud that I was ready for the first snow--storm windows up, mowers put away, snow blowers out, bird feeders up, driveway markers up. I am got outdoor Christmas decorations out so I wouldn't have to do this in the snow.
• And then silly things like successfully backing the tractor into the shed.  Not necessarily an easy feat backing that up the ramp and through the doorway.  But I did it and I smiled and I would like to think Ed was too.  I felt like wonder woman.

And now I must go outside and cleanup the snow on the driveway and decks.  Ed would have his truck out by now plowing.  I would just get in my car and drive off to Mass and when I got home it would all be done.  I won't make it to Mass this morning and I feel guilty about that.  But this is where I'm learning that I can't do it all and that is okay.  I know there will be people who will be disappointed that I will not be at Mass for the choir is singing and our numbers will already be down.  And I'm sorry that I'm going to disappoint others.  But if I don't cleanup the snow, no one will.  I do not have my husband to do it for me.  So I'm sorry I'll disappoint others.  But sometimes, I'm just one woman.  I'm just human.  I'm not wonder woman.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Perspective

Note to self....don't update the blog when you're having a meltdown!

I finished the leaf cleanup before it got dark.  I did not get everything done that I wanted yesterday and so I have more work to do today.  Hopefully I'll be productive without getting frustrated and crying.  But for now, the darn leaves are cleaned up.  I do expect one more round of cleanup before winter since there are still some leaves on the oak trees but I hope it's not as bad as yesterday.  I easily made 10 trips dragging a tarp full of leaves down into the woods yesterday.  The leaves were so deep and overwhelming and I just lost it (obviously).

Last night, though, and this morning, I do look out and am happy with how everything is cleaned up.

Perspective...it's an amazing thing!

BEFORE: Doesn't look so bad in this picture, but the piles are deep.

BEFORE: Side yard....no pictures of the other side and back yard.

AFTER: I feel so much better now.

AFTER

Tears and Leaves and Anger

It can be so overwhelming at times.  I try to be strong...to show the world, and myself, that I can do it all.  I can hold down a full-time job, maintain friendships, and take care of the house and yard.  But today it got the better of me.  The leaves in the yard are too deep.  I couldn't stay on top of them during the week due to work.  And now they are too deep to pickup with the mower.  Thankfully I have a leaf blower and so I can blow them into piles.  But they are deep.  And as I fill the tarp, at least for the fifth time, I get angry.

Angry that all the neighbors leaves seem to have collected in my yard.  Angry that I am left to do this all alone.  Angry that no one is here to help me.  Angry that others can spend their weekends and relax and do "fun" things but I am left to spend my weekends doing yard work.  Angry that no one offers to help.  Angry that others simply suggest "hire someone", like it's that simple.  Angry that I need to use my vacation time at work so that I can clean up these damn leaves.  Angry that Ed left me alone to deal with all of this.

And the anger causes the tears to flow.  And then I get angry at my weakness.  I should be thankful that I have my health and am physically able to do this yard work.  And I should be thankful that I have a job that provides me with paid vacation time.  And I should be thankful that I have that damn leaf blower and mower to help make the job easier.

But I am weak today.  And the physical labor and emotional heaviness wear me down.  So today I'm angry.  And I will use that anger to help keep pushing forward.  Because there are leaves to pickup and storm windows to put up and soon the sun will set and I will run out of daylight.  And if I don't finish my work, then I will only get more angry which just means more tears.

A vicious cycle...

Deleted

I voted last night, like so many other people.  And as I walked out of the polling place, I was struck by the moments that stab you in the heart that remind you that your loved one has passed.

That's what is so weird about grief.  It's not always some big way in which it hits you, but in so many small ways.  Yesterday, it was noticing how his name was missing from the list of registered voters.  There it was, in black and white...his name had been deleted.  There was my name, there was Dan's name.  But not Ed's.

In the past, we rarely voted together just due to work schedules.  He would go in the morning; I would go in the evening.  And when I went, and the poll worker went to check off my name, I would see his name with it's check mark that he was already there.

But last night, his name was not there.  It didn't make me sad.  It didn't make me cry.  It just was.

And I did not miss the fact that someone passes and we have this system that just takes care of removing their names from the lists of living people.  As I think back, when I needed to update the town census this past year, his name was already removed.  Deleted from many systems.  Marked as "deceased" I'm sure.

But not deleted from my heart or my thoughts or my daily living.  So many names removed from lists and the rest of us are expected to go on.  To keep living.  Which we do and which I did.  I entered the polling booth and make my choices.  And life goes on...

Happy Birthday Ed

You would have been 62 today, but you are forever 60.  You are forever my love.  You are forever in my heart.  And I miss you everyday.  Happy Birthday My Love!

And There It Is Again

It feels like a hole...in the middle of my heart.  A sense of emptiness that is difficult to describe.  A dull ache.  A pain that cannot be relieved with Tylenol.  And I don't know where it came from.  Was it falling from what could be defined as "good" moments?  That as soon as those "good" moments are over, you're reminded how lonely and empty life really is?  I wasn't dwelling on it.  I wasn't looking for it.  It just appeared.

It was a good day.  Full of sunshine and warmth, good food, and good friends and family.  But then they left and as I cleaned up the dishes and picked up the house, I wished I had more time to chat with everyone.  But then the reality that Dan would soon be leaving hit me.  Our weekends together are too short.  And as much as I love having him come home, there is pain when he leaves.  He fills the house with the void that exists without Ed.

Sure, he brings home piles of laundry and there's the evidence around the house of another person living here.  And after he leaves, I do finally readjust to the benefits of living alone.  But the transition period is difficult.

And here I am again...trying to make that transition.  As he backed his car out of the garage and drove away, the emptiness began to form in my heart.  And as I walked back into the silent house, which only hours before was filled with family and friends, the emptiness enveloped me.  And as I laid my head to rest for the night, the tears flowed again.  Relief came as sleep overtook me.  And as much as I beg for Ed to come to me in dreams, it never happens.  I wonder why that is?

But here I am again at the start of another week.  And the hole in my heart is still there.  God I miss Ed so much...still.  But the workweek must start and the distraction of work and routine will be good.  And I'll plug along and gain strength in the memory of the "good" times this weekend--time with Dan and time with friends and family.  For they do fill my life with love and goodness.  They fill that hole that is in my heart right now.  I just need to remind myself of that and the pain will soon subside.

A Rainy Fall Day

Today it is raining out.

But as I awoke this morning the bright vibrant red leaves on the tree outside my bedroom window caught my eye. And as I type this, I'm noticing the bright yellow leaves out front.  Even without the sunshine, the leaves are bright and cheerful.  And even on a rainy day, I pause and notice the beautiful fall colors.

And Dan is home and so the house if filled with activity and noise and love.

And I've done some baking and now the house is filled with the sweet, warm smells of cinnamon and apples.

A nice rainy fall day that warms my heart.

Apple Cider Mini Donut Holes

Apple Minis

Nice and warm from the oven.

Happy Birthday to Me

Today is my birthday.  I have to think about how old I turned today.  52

To me that is just a number.  I'm not quite sure how I got to 52?  Wasn't I just 30?  I'm not quite sure where the years have gone.

Of course, I now know that my life has been divided into three parts:

1. the first 20 or so years of my life--as a child, growing up, and going to college.
2. the next 30+ years of my life--married to my best friend and love of my life raising our family and making a home.
3. and now the next chapter--still to be defined.

I took the day off of work today.  I wanted it to be a day to do whatever I wanted to--to go someplace, to stay home, to be open to whatever possibilities moved me at the moment.

I did start my day with a hair appointment.  The practical side of me using my time off productively.  I also had some chores around the house that I wanted to get done (can't waste available time and good weather).

But I also took some time just to relax.  I went to the Quabbin, a place Ed and I used to visit often.  It was a cool, fall day and it was peaceful.  The beauty of the fall leaves as they are beginning to turn.  The cool, crisp autumn air.  The eagle that soars overhead.

I found it was nice just to slow down and enjoy the moment.  There weren't many people there and I had the Observation tower to myself (a rare occurrence).

I made a new friend while there.  He was enjoying the day as well, simply taking a walk.  He lost his wife 4 years ago.  Another widow friend.  Is there a beacon that attracts us to each other?  We talked for a while and exchanged phone numbers and email addresses.  Small world.

The rest of my birthday was doing some work around the house.  I also picked up two bouquets of flowers.  Ed always gave me flowers for my birthday--some at work and some at home.  The red roses I picked up today represent his love for me.  The fall arrangement is similar to the many he gave me over the years when I told him to stop wasting money on roses that would not last.  Our love lasted though.  And the tradition he had of spoiling me I will continue by spoiling myself.

My favorite dinner of acorn squash is in the oven and the single serving of cake and ice cream is waiting as my evening dessert.  The shoes I ordered for myself won't arrive until later this week (poor planning on my part).  But they are my gift to myself.

For although Ed made me happy for more than half of my life and he made me feel special not only on my birthday but everyday, I can either wallow in my grief missing that or learn from it and continue these traditions.  How blessed I was to have him make me happy for so many years.  Now I need to learn to bring happiness into my life myself.

As I look back over my 52 birthdays, I realize there were only 3 when I was "alone".  My first year in college and these last two birthdays since Ed passed.

I have received many cards and wishes from friends and family.  I am loved and I am blessed.  And for that I am grateful.  It has been a good day and I'm learning how to care for myself.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Bluebirds in my yard checking out the bird house.

The bluebirds enjoying the bird bath.  There were about a half dozen of them.

Quabbin Reservoir - Enfield Lookout

Quabbin Reservoir - You can see the center of Belchertown in the distance (if you look close/zoom in).

Reminder

American Greetings and Facebook have sent me emails to remind me that Ed's birthday is coming up.  Don't they know he isn't here to celebrate birthdays with me anymore?  Don't they know I would never forget? I wonder if I can get them to send me reminders of the anniversary of his death.  I won't ever forget that either though.  But thanks for the reminder American Greetings and Facebook.  Great way to start my day (not)...

Some day...

Fall is arriving and I ponder what this means and why I even mention it.  As I face the second fall without Ed, I try to remember what about this season I always enjoyed and try to find that enjoyment once again.  I know part of it was that it was my birthday followed closely by Ed's birthday and so we would use this as our opportunity to fit in some fun day trips--to the Big E, to a local winery, to Mike's Maze--taking in the last days of good weather before we hunkered down for the winter.

Last week I decided I was going to the Belchertown Parade and Fair.  I've always enjoyed going...even if it was to walk around for just an hour.  So I made up my mind that I was going to go.  I did reach out to a friend from church asking if her and her family were going to the parade.  Well, I ended up joining them walking in the parade instead of sitting watching it.  We walked with the Knights of Columbus to collect donations and hand out tootsie rolls.  It was fun to do this with the kids--they certainly attracted donations much more than I did!  I then spent time with my friend and her family having lunch at the fair and looking at the animals.  So much fun to see the fair through the eyes of her grandchildren.  And I can even admit that I had a good time!  I am also planning to go to the Big E this year.

My point is that I'm testing the waters and returning to activities that I found pleasure in previously and that I have such fond memories of.  I try to judge whether to go alone or to go with a friend.  I'm not afraid of going alone.  I know my expectations of achieving my previous happiness is hard to achieve--Ed and I were so darn compatible that when we went to these places, we were in perfect sync in terms of how much time to spend, where to go, what we wanted to eat, etc.  So I set my expectations low and just go with it and see what happens and then learn from that.

Some things in life are becoming more natural but grief still comes and hits me when I least expect it.  I think of Ed constantly and I still question why he left me and whether I did and said the right things.  And the reasonable side of me recognizes that he did not have a choice.  And that even though I told him it was okay to leave, I know he knew I would have kept him here with me forever if that was a choice.  He was just so brave and even on his death bed, worried about me and took care of me.  And that is what I miss most.  My protector, my confidante, my soul mate, who always put me first.  I was so lucky; we were so lucky.  And I think that is why it still hurts so much.

I know there are so many things I need to be thankful for and that there are so many who have it worse.  And although it gives me perspective, it doesn't necessarily ease the pain.  Even as I write this, I remind myself that I said my goal for this 2nd year without Ed is to learn more about myself, as an individual, not as part of another half.  Because I went from being a daughter to being a wife.  But now it's figuring out who I am as an individual.

I have made it through another summer alone.  The yard was tended to, flowers were planted, and a garden came and went.  I used gas-powered mowers and trimmers and blowers and power washers without even thinking twice.  And now I'm preparing our home for another winter.  Some are dreading the winter; last winter they say was the worse and now this winter is predicted to be the same or worse.  How can it be worse?  While in a fog in the depths of grief, I made it through last winter.  There was so much I didn't know and learned.  I hope I'm stronger this year; I think I'm stronger this year. So I'm less fearful of a bad winter.  But life still surprises me and we'll see.  I can only hope.

Am I perfect?  Absolutely not?  Do I have it all down to a science?  Nope.  Do I wish Ed was still here?  Absolutely!  But I'm functioning and, dare I say, succeeding?  I go to work every day.  I'm trying to take care of myself by eating right (even cooking!) and exercising.  The house is still standing and being maintained.  And I work hard to maintain relationships with family and friends.

Someday this new life will become routine and it won't be newsworthy in a blog.  Some day....

I have gone on a couple bike rides after work on the bike path to the CT river.
 A good way to end the workday and get some fresh air (and exercise).  One of those things I'm okay "doing alone"
although I had more fun the weekend Dan and I went on a bike ride together!

New fall flowers for Ed's grave.
I wonder if there will be a time when I'll be less attentive to maintaining his grave (and I fear that).

Sunshine

What a difference a few days make.  I just got home from a terrific overnight with Dan.  Yesterday we went to Nate's to have dinner and visit with his family.  We had a great time and I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Nate's parents.  On top of the welcoming company, they also prepared a great meal.  I'm sure we could have stayed much longer, but it was getting late so we had to regretfully leave.  But I smile as I recall the evening and even wished we lived closer so we could get together more often.  The conversation was easy and the company was comfortable.

I found out last night that Nate almost didn't go to Roger Williams...for some reason he delayed accepting at another school and then, during those few days, everything fell into place with Roger Williams.  And this reminds me again how one small decision can change the path our lives take.  If Nate didn't wait, if he didn't go to Roger Williams, then Dan and him would never have met and our families would not have gotten to know each other.  I feel truly blessed to know their family because they are what I like to call "good people".  So I'm thankful God guided us so that our paths could cross.  I'm confident Dan and Nate will be life-long friends and our families will remain in touch for many years to come.

So now I am back home and the laundry is in and I need to go out and mow (never ending).  But we got much needed rain yesterday and there's a cloudless blue sky today.  And I had a great day and weekend, and so I'll pause and take a moment to be grateful and relish this moment.  Because my days are not always filled with grief and sadness.  Every so often, the sun does shine through.

Times Does Not Heal All Wounds

The emptiness fills my soul.  The sadness fills my body.  Work is a distraction that keeps my mind busy.  But as I sit here at home, I look around at those things that were his, that were ours, and I struggle to grasp whether he was really here.  The physical reminders that he existed are all around...in his clothes, in his workshop, in the things that he bought for our home.  These are all evidence that he was here.  But how can he really be gone?  As I closed the door last night as I headed to bed, I'm reminded he hung that door.  It is physical proof he was here.  So how can he be gone?  How can I be here all alone?

And as time passes, I realize that there are now things in my life that Ed was not here to be part of.  Stupid things like doing Zumba or my Fitbit or a new TV show I enjoy watching.  Or the new people in my life who I've met through our common grief.  They are all evidence that Ed is not here with me to share things with and that time continues to march on without him.  For over 30 years I shared everything with him--from the littlest of things to the grandest--and now he is not here to share anything with and that breaks my heart.

Joy no longer fills this house or my heart.  And it hurts too much and it's difficult to breath.  I want to reach out and touch him.  I want to hear his voice.  But none of this exists.  Was it real or was it all just a dream?  The evidence of his existence is this house, is the love he filled it with, and I have pictures to prove he lived.  Dan is living and breathing evidence that he existed.  So why when I look at his things and photos of him, there is a hollowness that hurts so bad.  I beg him to show me a sign he is still with me, to come to me in a dream. But it doesn't come.  My soul is empty and I am engulfed in sadness.  The pain is deep and time is not healing these wounds.

August

Oh August, where did you go?!  I can't believe September is 2 days away.  The days pass, the months pass, and seasons change.  The second summer without Ed...and now I will soon be facing the second fall.  Fall, a time that I used to love so much.  September, one of my favorite months of year.  I'm scared, I'm apprehensive, I'm still sad.  For the days, the months, the seasons continue on and I still so badly want Ed here to share them with me.  But, alas, that can't be.

But I did not intend to write about that this morning.  Damn!  That is how grief is--it still creeps up when you least expect it.  So I will take a deep breath, refocus my brain, and instead look back at August which was filled with moments of living and, dare I say, enjoyment and appreciation.

Refocus... August...

The month started with Dan coming home.  I am SO blessed that he is close by and is able to come home for weekends.  And we have a good deal...he helps around the house and I'll do his laundry!  The cukes in the garden started to come in and so we tried our hands at making pickles (which ended up coming out pretty good)!

Mid-August was our annual trip to Misquamicut.  Last year my heart was very heavy being without Ed.  This year, there were moments, but overall the vacation was relaxing and enjoyable and the weather was great!

Dan and his friends Matt and Nate came down for several days.  I just love these guys and I love that they are such good friends and I hope they continue to be for many, many years to come.  You need to invest in staying in touch and these three do and that provides me such joy.  And it was great to watch them enjoy themselves kayaking, fishing, scuba diving or simply playing with the kids or hanging with all of us.

My niece Lexi and I took one day and headed over to Block Island.  You can see the island from Misquamicut but I had never been and always wanted to check it out.  I considered going alone but Lexi was willing to be my travel companion so off we went.  Although the ferry ride over was a little rough, we ended up having a great time!  Two gals hanging out together...doing some sightseeing, some shopping, walking the beach, and having a nice lunch together.  Although some say once they've gone, they don't feel a need to do it again, but I would be open to another visit.  I feel there's things I would like to see again and/or explore more closely.  Maybe next year.

Mid-vacation, lonliness hit me by surprise.  I'm sure part of it was because Dan and his friends and my oldest sister had gone back home.  But it still surprises me how you can be surrounded by so many people but still feel so all alone.  As I walked the beach, which provided me such solace and peace, I missed Ed and the "oneness" we shared.  We were so similar in how we thought and felt and he was my safe place to say whatever I felt...the only person I truly trusted to say whatever I wanted.  Dan has filled some of that void, but he had left and so, amongst all these people, I was alone.  I wonder if they realize how lucky they are--to have their families and to be together.  I'd like to think so.  But what they don't realize nor do they know how to acknowledge, is how alone I am.  I know it's a good thing that they don't understand, because you only understand once you've lived it.  I mean, I never understood it.  So I don't wish this level of loss or grief on any of them--they are my family and friends.  But how I wish someone understood so I didn't feel so all alone.

That finally happened on the last day of vacation.  I met up with a fellow Wid (shorthand for widow/widower) at the end of the week.  He got it.  He understood.  And for a couple hours, there was comfort and joy in sitting and talking about anything and everything, including our spouses.  Lesson learned was that we should have done this mid-week...maybe it would have helped get me through that period, after Dan left, when I felt sad and alone and there was no one to lift my spirits.  But it certainly ended my vacation on a high note and although that afternoon saw gray clouds come in, I smiled and laughed and enjoyed the last moments of vacation with my family.

As I close this post, I want to share one more thing:

While I was walking on the beach, on that day when I felt so all alone and sad, an old song, not necessarily one I particularly liked, but it was familiar, came into my head.  Where it came from, I don't know, but the words I kept repeating where:

You and me against the world,
Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world,
When all the others turn their backs and walk away,
You can count on me to stay.

Yes, I know.  A Helen Reddy song?  Really?  Well, that part is odd.  But the words themselves spoke to me and it was how I was feeling.  No matter what happened, it was always me and Ed, together.  And I always knew I could count on him and him on me.

But the words to the next verse alluded me...

And when one of us is gone,
And one of us is left to carry on,

And what??  I could not recall the words.  I searched my memory but the words continued to allude me.  What was the secret?  What was the message?  So after returning home from vacation, I Googled it...

Then remembering will have to do,
Our memories alone will get us through
Think about the days of me and you,
You and me against the world.

Damn!  Really?  Freakin' song!
And on that note, below are a few pictures from August.  The new memories that I am trying to build.

Dan doing the mowing for me!

Our first pickles! YUM!

My niece Lexi who went to Block Island with me.

Block Island - Mohegan Bluffs looking towards Long Island.

Block Island - New Harbor

Block Island - Looking back towards the mainland.

Nate, Matt, and Dan at Misquamicut

Matt going scuba diving; Nate and Dan in the water with "the girls".

Our group at times numbered up to about 25 people.
Here's Dan, Amanda, Matt, Nate, and DeeDee

DeeDee and Cathy (on one of the cooler days)

Amanda and Dan boogie boarding

Nick, Dan, Nate, Amanda

Even a trip to Benny's was fun!

Reaffirmed - My favorite place on Earth!

My Hummingbirds were happy to see me home.
This guy sat there for about 10 mins after I filled the feeder.

Enjoying Small Pleasures; Avoiding Stress

Sorry I have been inconsistent in writing.  Life has been busy and I'm not quite sure why or how.  It's not like there's one particular thing I can say has been consuming my time.  It's a bunch of little things.

Work is nuts.  We've had several people retire over the past month and now I find myself doing four different jobs all at once.  The good news is that the days definitely are full and busy.  The down side is that there are lots of "problems" and it gets stressful.  So the work week just disappears since by the time I get home, I have dinner, do dishes, and get ready for the next workday.  This means Monday-Friday disappear way too quickly.  I am doing a good job at finding that life/work balance even if it means I leave work at the end of the day with a pile on my desk and way too many emails in my inbox.  I also work very hard at managing how I use my time on week nights.  I have learned that if I'm out after work for more than 2-3 nights each week, I get very stressed.  I have learned that I need to be home; need to have evenings where I can move at a slower pace and chip away at some of the things on my to do list so it is not all saved for the weekends.  I'm learning...

I have enjoyed the summer in terms of enjoying the yard.  I've learning about perennials and how I need to be a bit more ruthless in controlling where and what grows.  My garden is growing and I've enjoyed cucumbers and zucchini and the tomatoes are just coming in.  I'm excited because I'm growing acorn squash this year which I love--can't wait for that!  I've put up a second hummingbird feeder and it's a weekly event to make more nectar for them.  They definitely prefer my sugar/water mix than that red stuff from the store!  I think the chipmunk is enjoying it as well since some days we go through it pretty quickly.

I'm learning to grill which is impressive both because I have a general hesitation about gas grills (since we had the gas grill fire many years ago) and I know little about grilling.  But I'm learning--sometimes things get charbroiled, but sometimes they also turn out great.

I've found a quiet pleasure in sitting on the deck, having dinner (yes, alone), watching the birds, seeing the groundhog or the bunnies, and just enjoying the sunny, fresh air and the gardens and the yard.  When my mind goes there and the realization sets in, I do hate the fact that I'm setting a place for one at the table and I hate that I'm alone and I miss Ed and I also get pissed that he is not here with me.  And I feel like I'm playing a pretend game--pretend I can function on my own, pretend that I'm finding comfort in simple, quiet moments.  But then I realize I can't pretend because this is my life.  And then all the overwhelming questions creep up about what is my life, who am I, and is this how I want and am going to life the rest of my life?

But then I go back to enjoying the hummingbird who just arrived at the feeder, because that is simple and the rest is too overwhelming.  And I remind myself "one day at a time", one moment of pleasure at a time.  Keep it simple.

One of the hummingbirds at the feeder.

My Garden

Will have an abundance of tomatoes once these ripen.

One of the acorn squash.

Zucchini!

BatWoman

I hate bats!
But I guess I need to begin to expect a visit from them annually now because, once again, they decided to pay me a visit this year.  That's three years in a row.

As some background, we've always had bats outside.  I remember when Dan was small we would hear them squeaking outside the bedroom window.  Ed and Dan would also watch them from the pool when they went swimming at night.  So bats have been around outside for years.

Two years ago, one got in the basement.  It was the year that Dan was home after graduating college.  Ed was downstairs watching something on TV (it's a finished basement) and he came running up the stairs and yelling that there was a bat downstairs.  So the three of us, Dan in his protective gear, all headed downstairs to try to get this bat. I won't share details here, but we got rid of the bat.  And as I think back to that evening, I laugh because I'm sure we were quite a sight.  A week or two later, one ended up in our bedroom at night.  We never found it (the house got a thorough search and cleaning the next day) and we never found or saw the bat again.

Then last year, at the same time of year, two bats ended up in the house.  Now, let me remind you that this was 3 months after Ed passed.  So I was in the house alone, freaking out and needing to deal with this myself.  Thankfully they flew onto the three season porch where I was able to close the door and then I opened the outside door and they eventually left.

After last year's event, I called a wildlife specialist to come check the house.  He found no bats roosting and the only explanation he could come up with is they came in because I left an unscreened window open in the attached garage.  So they got into the garage and eventually onto the enclosed porch.  It made logical sense.  So I followed his advise and made sure I had screens on all windows and also put a cap on my chimney.  Those were the only possible entry points he could find. I figured I was now safe.

Then, this year, again, the same week of the year, I hear bats outside my bedroom window.  They are behind the shutter.  I'm not sleeping well because I hear them all night.  I eventually smarten up and close the window so I can't hear them.  I've convinced myself that the windows are screened, they won't come in, and it's just me hearing them that is bothering me.  I call my wildlife specialist ("Matt") though (yes, he's on speed dial now) and talk to him.  He reassures me there is nothing to worry about.  Behind the shutter is fine, yadda, yadda.  (Yes, he knows all the right things to say to me to calm me down.)

So that evening I get brave and as dusk arrives, I go outside to watch the bats come out from behind the shutter.  Yup, they are certainly bats and I count at least a dozen them.  Again, Matt reassures me that a dozen is not unusual.  So I keep my bedroom window closed at night for my own comfort.

The next morning, I get up and go through my usual routine--have a cup of coffee, read the paper, check my email and get ready to go downstairs to hit the treadmill.  As I'm putting the newspaper away in the living room, there it is.  A dark object on the white curtain--a bat.  Damn!

I remind myself the bat does not want to be in the house as much as I don't want him to be there.  I open the back door--they will sense cool air and move towards it.  He's not moving.  Okay, because I hope he doesn't move--I know they freak me out more when they are flying.  I could call Matt and he can come get it, but it's 7 AM and he doesn't "open" til 8 AM.  I've done a LOT of reading about bats and what to do if one gets in the house.

So I get a tupperware bowl and I don't have a piece of cardboard handy so I grab a small plexi cutting board.  The idea is to put the bowl over the bat, slide the plexi under the bowl and, tada!, you've caught a bat!  So I stand on the couch, then step over to stand onto the end table (it's hanging at the top of the curtain) and I pray that he doesn't move.  Prayer granted--I get the bowl on top of him, slide the plexi behind the curtain and slide both the bowl and plexi downward to slide the bat off the curtain.  I am glad I selected a semi-transparent bowl because I can see into it and can keep my eye on the bat.  Now what I've read is that I should wait and release him at night.  Yeah, right.  I don't think so.  I carry him outside and toss him over the railing.  He lands on the ground and I run into the house!

I did it!!  I'm so proud of myself.  I remained calm and took care of it.  All by myself.
And then I call my mother and burst into tears and cry about why me!!

I pull myself together.  I go outside and the bat is gone.  Now I'm wondering where it went, but I go about getting ready for work.  I listen for the bats outside my bedroom window.  I rap on the wall which usually causes them to stir and I hear nothing.  I call Matt again.  He says all the right things again and that, yes, it is possible they are no longer behind the shutter and advises that I recheck around the air conditioners because bats can get through a space as small as a pencil eraser.

That evening after work, I tape up every tiny hole around the air conditioners and gas insert in the fireplace.  So if you come to visit me and you see blue painters tape around these things, you'll know why!

To date, the bats have not returned to behind the shutter and I've gone over a week without another one in the house.  So I'm hoping they are gone for this season.  And next year, in addition to screens in all windows, I'll be sure every tiny hole around the air conditioners and gas insert is filled.  And I may invest in hanging a bat house--away from my house.  And don't think I haven't thought about removing my shutters as well!!

Oh, and I did find that bat I tossed outside.  He was hanging on the side of the house.  There was comfort in knowing where he was.  And as dusk approached, he left, probably off looking for his friends who left him alone (bats are "social" and like to travel together).  Poor thing (yeah right).

I hope my bat adventures are done for another year and maybe I can avoid them next year (please)!

Where I found the bat that I had tossed outside.  I guess they like my cedar shingles as well--easy to hang onto.
Maybe I need to install vinyl sooner rather than later.

In this one you can see he has lifted his head.  Kinda creepy!
I guess he doesn't like having his picture taken!

Year 2 Sucks

Year 2 sucks.  That is the consensus from me and my widow friends.  I know the world expects us to be done with our grief.  We've made it through the first year.  And, yes, somehow a year has gone by since Ed passed and I'm still getting out of bed every day and facing what lies ahead.  But the grief is so deep the first year, that I think I was numb for most of it.  Every day there was something new to challenge me and the littlest things were major obstacles.  I look back at learning to use the riding mower or even the push mower.  Learning to use a paint roller for the first time.  Such simple things to some of you, but new things that I had to learn, "had" to learn because Ed wasn't here.

The tears come unexpectedly lately.  Yesterday they came when I was simply dusting.  I moved the change bowl on the dresser--the bowl Ed dumped his loose change (or whatever else) into every day.  And it was sitting on the dresser that was Ed's, the one he owned when I met him.  That dresser became ours and now, sadly, it is mine.

Or when I washed the mirror and what stared back at me was an old, sad person.  I feel like I've aged a million years this past year.  What happened to that happy-go-lucky, glass half-filled girl?  The girl who was never sad and even after Ed was diagnosed with cancer would respond cheerfully when others inquired how Ed was doing.  Sure there were times I cried over the past 30 years--usually due to frustration, anger, or stress. But rarely due to sadness.  I know that made me lucky.

What is this new life that is now mine?  It is unknown and it is scary.  For the first 20 years of my life, I was a young girl, living with my parents, with dreams of going to college, getting married, having children.  The next 30 years were filled with my dreams--the love of my life, a wonderful son, a loving home.  And my dream was to grow old together.  That dream has been shattered.  And so now I'm faced with not knowing what my life is supposed to be for the next 20-30 years (God willing?).  Who am I?

Year 2.  The veil of grief has been lifted and now the fear of the future is being exposed.  A future that is scary that I must face alone.  I fear this sadness will remain--will I ever be happy?  I fear being alone the rest of my life.  Who will care for me when I'm in need?  I fear making the wrong decisions and hope they won't be too damaging.

So I remind myself to take this year to just get through each day.  Year 1 was about surviving and remembering to breath each day.  Year 2 I need to keep navigating my way through this new life, just one day at a time.  And if I keep moving, hopefully, I can stay one step ahead of the sadness so it doesn't latch on and leave me a pool of tears while dusting a dresser.

Beating Cancer

"When you die, it does not mean that you lose to cancer.

You beat cancer by how you live,

why you live,

and in the manner in which you live."

--Stuart Scott

Jimmy V Award Acceptance Speech

ESPY Awards, 2014

http://espn.go.com/video/clip?id=espn:11225895

Dan shared this with me and these words spoke to both of us.  I guess I can say Ed "beat" cancer since I am amazed and awed at how he lived his life after his terminal diagnosis.  I can only hope I would be as strong and graceful.  He taught us all how to "beat" cancer.  Stuart Scott is doing the same.

Thank you Dan for sharing this with me.  You give me strength in so many ways.

Supporting a Grieving Person

I came across this information about how to support a grieving person and it hit the nail on the head so I felt a need to share it.  Some people I encounter, very well meaning people, tend to think I should be done grieving because it's been a year or that I shouldn't be grieving because I have so much to be thankful for.  Or they say things that are unintentionally hurtful or simply just avoid saying anything like it didn't happen or they think they'll remind me of my loss and upset me (trust me, I never forget, not for a moment).  So unless you've experienced the loss of your other half; that love of your life; your best friend, partner, companion, I realize it is difficult to know what to do or say because I didn't know until 14 months ago.  So here goes.

• There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Grief does not always unfold in orderly, predictable stages. It can be an emotional rollercoaster, with unpredictable highs, lows, and setbacks. Everyone grieves differently, so avoid telling the bereaved what he or she “should” be feeling or doing.
• Grief may involve extreme emotions and behaviors. Feelings of guilt, anger, despair, and fear are common. A grieving person may yell to the heavens, obsess about the death, lash out at loved ones, or cry for hours on end. The bereaved need reassurance that what he or she feels is normal. Don’t judge them or take his or her grief reactions personally.
• There is no set timetable for grieving. For many people, recovery after bereavement takes 18 to 24 months, but for others, the grieving process may be longer or shorter. Don’t pressure the bereaved to move on or make them feel like they’ve been grieving too long. This can actually slow the healing process.

Comments to avoid

• "I know how you feel." One can never know how another may feel. You could, instead, ask your friend to tell you how he or she feels.
• "It's part of God's plan." This phrase can make people angry and they often respond with, "What plan? Nobody told me about any plan."
• "Look at what you have to be thankful for." They know they have things to be thankful for, but right now they are not important.
• "He's in a better place now." The bereaved may or may not believe this. Keep your beliefs to yourself unless asked.
• "This is behind you now; it's time to get on with your life." Sometimes the bereaved are resistant to getting on with because they feel this means "forgetting" his or her loved one. In addition, moving on is easier said than done. Grief has a mind of its own and works at its own pace.
• Statements that begin with "You should" or "You will." These statements are too directive. Instead you could begin your comments with: "Have you thought about. . ." or "You might. . ."

Source: American Hospice Foundation

Slow, Quiet Morning

This morning is a slow morning.  Yesterday I went with my friend Cathy to a get together with other widows that she had met via a young widow forum.  They call this a "widowbago" and someone picks a date and time and anyone who wants to attend can go.  Yesterday's Bago was in Westerly RI--a place I absolutely love so when Cathy asked if I wanted to go, I decided to go even though I wouldn't know anyone but Cathy.  However, there's a level of comfort when you meet other widows that make these new introductions easier.  We have all gone through this terrible event in our lives and we're now trying to pick up the pieces of our lives.  And we "get it" in ways I never understood before losing Ed and that no one can understand until you lose the love of your life, the other half of yourself.  What is true about every person in this group--whether they are 7 years out or 7 months out, is that we're there to support each other and help to bring joy and laughter back into our lives.

The people I met yesterday were all so sweet and welcoming.  Our host brought us on a tour of his family-owned chocolate factory in Westerly.  It was bittersweet because the last time I was there was with Ed and Dan.  We were on vacation and it was a cloudy, rainy day and so we ventured over to check it out.  Yesterday, though, we all got the "behind-the-scenes" tour which I found quite interesting.  Their huge vats of melted chocolate, in all kinds of varieties, would certainly make my Christmas-time chocolate dipping so much easier than using my small double boiler!!

The picnic afterwards was very nice and everyone I met was very nice and welcoming.  We ended staying until 9:30 and with the drive back, I got home at midnight!  So I slept late this morning.

I had my cup of coffee while sitting on the back deck this morning.  I watched the Cardinal play in the wet grass, the Robin looking for food; and took in the warmth of the sun and the quiet of the summer morning.  It was peaceful but I also realize why I just don't sit idle like this because it is at these times that all my thoughts of Ed come rushing back and the hurt and pain of losing him returns.

Not that I don't miss him everyday, but I tend to be busy doing things and so my mind is engaged in the moment or task at hand.  But when I just sit and take in the silence or quiet, the memories of what we had all come flooding back.  What were we doing at this time 2 years ago?  How was he feeling?  What would we be doing at this moment if he was still here today?

What I've also learned though is that I love my home and the house and the yard and what this home that we made together and where we raised Dan.  I do find such peace and comfort sitting in the yard enjoying the birds and the flowers and even the lawn that needs constant mowing.  It is home and I can honestly say it is my most favorite place on earth.

So I'll update this blog to capture my thoughts and feelings, and then I will go attack my to do list so that I can get back to being functional.  It is a beautiful day and I need to be productive not only because there are things to be done, but also because I need to engage my brain so I'm thinking of something else.  This is why being busy, at the right level, is a good thing.  And right now I'm just trying to find that right balance.

The Cardinal that nested in the lilac bush.

Two Hummingbirds at the feeder.

They really prefer my homemade sugar/water mix!

One of the many luminaries donated in Ed's memory at Relay for Life.
Thank you all for your generous support!

My rose from Nelson.

A gift from my friend Cathy from our Widowbago adventure!