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