Christmas Eve Morning

It's Christmas Eve Morning. It's still slightly dark out so the candles in the window are still lit. It's quiet and peaceful. Dan sleeps upstairs. If he wasn't, I'm sure there would be much more noise in the house this early in the morning.

Soon I will be baking a pumpkin pie. Not that my family typically has pumpkin pie on Christmas, but there's a young boy who's a neighbor of my mother who has befriended her and comes over to her house daily to help her. He's a sweet and generous kid....and since pumpkin pie is his favorite dessert, we'll have pumpkin pie tomorrow for him!

My list (because anyone who knows me knows I always have a list) is short for today. The final food prep for tonight and tomorrow and final touches on some food-related gifts. And I'll do some more laundry and housecleaning (minor stuff).

The shopping and wrapping and decorating is done. I've been baking and now I have more than I know what to do with. The house is in reasonable shape.  I think I'm all set which is a good thing since tonight is Christmas Eve!

I did better this year. Last year the grief monster visited me before Thanksgiving and didn't leave until after the new year. This year he must be visiting someone else and hasn't stopped by yet. This doesn't mean I don't miss Ed. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him, but this year is different...I'm in the Christmas spirit. So I will enjoy it as long as it lasts.

Hallmark movies or Christmas music are playing constantly. I've done baking and decorating. Lights are on timers so they are on to greet me each evening when I arrive home. It all makes me smile.

Today is a good day. Tonight will be Mass and then to my nieces to spend Christmas Eve with the in-laws. Then tomorrow will be at my mother's with my family.  Tradition...  And it's all good.

Merry Christmas All!

Two Weeks Til Christmas

Two weeks until Christmas and I have to say I don't like this time of year, which is sad.  Instead of enjoying the sights and sounds of the holiday, like many others, I am faced with the stress of trying to get everything done. Never mind the routine tasks of day-to-day living like laundry and bills and maintaining a house, but now there is the added pressure of shopping, wrapping, decorating, and all the other wonderful things associated with this time of year.


I keep trying to simplify but here I am two weeks before Christmas with a long list of shopping that still needs to be done. The Christmas decorations are on the back porch so they are one step closer to actually getting into the house. I need to shop for others but have no idea of what to get them.

Of course everything seems much more difficult carrying the burden myself. Which makes me laugh because I do recall many evenings when I was up late baking or wrapping and Ed would simply sit in his recliner and watch TV! I would get so frustrated that he could be so calm and relaxed and I was totally stressed out. And it's not like Ed didn't do anything.  He took care of the tree and did a lot of shopping and certainly helped wrap.  I need him now to help me stay relaxed.

I used to love Christmas and now all I want to do is go away, escape all of this and come back when it's all over. That's a sad statement but I'm not quite sure how to change this.

And just like that my outlook on life changes. I can blame it on the holidays. I can blame it on the fact that it was exactly 7 years ago that Ed was officially diagnosed with cancer...our first meeting with Dr. Bowers on Dec 9th 2009.  I can blame it on the fact that instead of shopping and baking and sharing the joys of the season with Ed, I'm instead putting a new cemetery log on his grave, a cemetery log that I lovingly arranged myself for him.  I would normally share a picture here of the cemetery log, but I guess I neglected to take one...blame it on widow brain!

I suppose I should stop wallowing in my grief and go be productive for time is wasting away. There's only 2 weeks until Christmas and I have way too much still to do.  May you enjoy the holiday season. I'm hoping to do so once this is all over...

Happy Thanksgiving

I'm sorry I haven't written although I wonder if there's any reason to continue this blog. It was started when Ed was first diagnosed almost exactly 7 years ago. This blog enabled me to keep you posted on his health. When we reached what would be the final month of his life, it allowed me to keep you all posted on a daily basis, and then to share with you as I walked through the valley of grief.

Three and a half years after Ed's passing, I am clearly not as good about posting. My life has become rather boring and there's not much to tell. On one hand, this means no major drama, which I've learned is a good thing.  There are still days when grief visits and the pain of my loss and the loss of a future that will never be brings tears to my eyes.  There are also days of laughter and, dare I say, "joy" when I share and appreciate the company of family and special friends.

So as I sit here in my warm home on this Sunday after Thanksgiving, I ponder whether to close this blog. If you have strong feelings one way or another, please comment (anonymously is fine). Maybe, if I know someone is out there, I'll be better about posting more frequently.  "Maybe"....because sometimes life just gets busy and I've learned that somethings just need to give.

But for today, I'm here. There is frost on the ground outside. Winter is coming and once again, I find myself preparing the house and the yard.  The lawn is clear of all the leaves which makes me proud and I hope Ed is looking down and proud that I'm taking care of everything. The patio furniture and lawn ornaments are all put away for the winter. There is a quiet as the squirrels run across the yard, birds gather at the recently put out bird feeders, and Dan is sleeping upstairs. The house is still filled with the smells of the homemade chicken soup I made last night for dinner.

The past couple months, since I last wrote, have had its ups and downs. There have been some low points with grief, stress, or disappointment. But there were also high points...successes with struggles or warmth and laughter with friends or family. So I guess my life is not much different than anyone elses. What I realize, though, for me, is that what I miss in all these lows and highs is someone to share them with. Someone to comfort and hold me during the lows and someone to celebrate and share the highs. Someone to simply share the moment in time with. 

But this morning, as I enjoy the warmth of a cup of coffee, in the warmth and quiet of my home, I continue the thoughts of Thanksgiving and remember to be grateful for all I have and all I had. Below is the Thanksgiving prayer I shared on Thanksgiving Day with my family.  It's long (and those of you who know me well, can laugh about that), but I think it sums things up nicely.  Happy Thanksgiving!

Let us pray.

Dear Lord,

In the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, it is easy to be so busy that we only focus on the negatives in our lives.

The stress of having too much to do, the stress of our jobs or of not having a job, our physical and emotional aches and pains, dwelling on what we don’t have, the loss of our loved ones, and how life seems unfair.

We all know too well the pain of illness, the pain of loss, the sadness with whatever life is currently dealing us. To allow the daily stresses to make us angry, impatient, overwhelmed…

Mom always says “Life is Good” and there are many days when each one of us, even Mom, can find that hard to believe and we struggle often to recognize the “good” in our lives.

So today, on this day set aside to give thanks to God for our many blessings, let us instead focus on all that is “good” in our lives.

We thank you for each one of us around this table, for we are family.  That even when we disagree or don’t see eye-to-eye, we still love each other and know we can count on each other always. We thank you that we can all be together on this Thanksgiving Day since we know there are many families that cannot be.

We thank you for those of us who have our health and for those with health struggles, that they are well enough to be with us today and are reminded that each day is a gift to be cherished.

Although we miss Dad, Mike, and Ed more than words can express and we at times resent that they have been taken from us too early, let us be thankful for the time we did have with them and the gifts each one of them gave us and the memories we will cherish for a lifetime. We have experienced loss and therefore we are reminded to appreciate each day with our loved ones.

We are also thankful for the close friends each one of us has and the importance they have in our lives.  Let us be thankful for them and not take them for granted.

We are thankful that we all have a roof over our head, warmth in our homes, and food on our table.

This food today was prepared with love and each one of us is here today because we are family and we love each other in spite of our differences.

For being together, for sharing this meal, and for the ability to recognize that each day is a gift from God and therefore is a “good day”, we thank you Lord.

AMEN

 

The Days are Cooler

The days are cooler.
The leaves are turning.
Memories of our time together.
Going to fairs, picking pumpkins.
I miss you terribly at this time of year.
Fall.
Our birthdays.
Time continuing to tick away.
I miss your companionship.
I miss knowing there is someone who is always there for me
To share with me
To care for me
To love me

What is the purpose of my life?
I never wondered that "before".
Instead I just lived it,
enjoyed it, loved it
Loved you.

As the leaves fall,
my strength falls
Like the bears, I want to go and hiberate
To shut out the world
Sleep gives me reprieve
Reprieve from what has become my so called life

Will I ever find joy again
Will I ever truly be happy again
I try each day to remember how "lucky" I am
And I do have goodness in my life

But I am alone
There is no one who truly loves me
There is no one who cares for me
There is no one to share with
There is no one who truly has my back

And as birthdays approach,
I'm reminded I'm growing older...
without you...
My fourth birthday without you
Without you making my day special
Without you making me feel special

I'm getting older
I'm getting tired
Tired of pretending
Tired of always being the "cheerful" one
To make others feel better

And damn those who don't appreciate what they have
And damn those who don't have "time" for me
And damn those who think everything is just fine
and expect me to learn to just suck it up and appreciate what I have

Easy for them...they have their husbands
They have their families
They have their happy homes
They have someone to go home to...

I never knew it would be so hard
I never knew I'd miss you so much
I want you back
I'm tired


It's fall,
the days are getting shorter
and I welcome the darkness

Seasons Change

Thankfully the heat wave has broken. The evenings and mornings are now cool requiring a light sweatshirt. A sure sign that fall is arriving without needing to look at the calendar. Looking at the calendar though I see it's already September 5th. How can we already be 5 days into September?

Time continues to tick away way too quickly. I wanted to fill the long summer days with all kinds of adventures. Although as I look back, I spent time mourning the loss of a dear friend. There was the shock and grief of his passing. But then there was the impact that loss had both in terms of church-related activities and in rebuilding relationships with church-related friends where we'd become lax in making time for each other.

I am grateful that I was also able to spent time away at the beach with family and friends. A true escape from the daily grind. I can sit for hours just watching the waves on the shore, soaking in the sunshine on my face. Yes, there were still lonely moments, even when surrounded by many people. I am more attuned to the people around me--the young, innocent families with children, large family groups, and couples enjoying the day. It seems everyone walking on the beach is a couple. I see them laughing and am glad they are enjoying each other. I'm sure that's what it used to look like when Ed was here. Our happy family or the two of us walking on the beach together. I walk alone now and the tears still come but less frequently. But the ocean still brings me peace and I feel at home there.

But summer is over and fall is starting to make its appearance. My 4th summer, my 4th fall without Ed. I have always loved the fall--fall fairs, foliage, our birthdays. These are now replaced with a struggle to keep up with leaf raking and preparing the house for winter. There is less time for fairs and also no one to go with. Sure I could ask friends, but it is not the same.

Time marches on. Seasons change. I'm working hard at living life even when I don't want to. And I have been blessed with rekindling some old friendships and making some new ones these past few months. I am still blessed by having the most thoughtful and caring son who is my reason to keep plugging along each day. I know to be thankful for all the gifts in my life and I truly am. I just miss Ed so damn much it hurts and I still struggle to navigate this new life of mine and there are some days that I just don't like it and want to give up.  Maybe someday it will get easier; or maybe not.  Only time, and the changing of seasons, will tell...

Professional Help

I sit here this morning and wait...  Am I waiting for something spectacular?  something special?  I guess it depends what your definition is of these terms.  No, I'm waiting for Minuteman Pest Control to arrive.

They are coming because I have wasps. You may recall that last year at this time I was stung by a wasp. They had created a nest under my front deck and when I went to water my plants, that was when I was stung. So this year, I've been more attentive, listening for that buzzing sound and watching for swarms.  And that is how I noticed them past Wednesday.  Long story, short...I can't get close enough to locate their nest because one seems to be under the leaf guard in the gutter above the front door and the other appears to be behind the front steps which you can't get to without crawling under the deck.  So I am calling in the pros.

So far I've made it to late July without a bat getting in the house. This is monumental to me because for the last four years, a bat has gotten into the house in July.  They don't roast in the house, but consistently one inadvertently ends up inside and the battle ensues. This year, I had Dan remove the shutters on the south side of the house (where they typically hang out for a few days on their way through) and I've taped up around all the air conditioners and fireplaces (so yes, if you come to my house, you'll see blue tape around these things...looks odd, but it makes me feel better).  So far, so good so I hope I haven't just jinxed it!

But you did not come here to read about my wildlife antics, but if you did, I could tell you about the black bear, skunk, and woodchunk.  No, instead, I will tell you that I'm continuing to plug along day to day.  Time passes so quickly and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.  I keep myself busy with work and seeing family and friends.  The unexpected passing of Fr. Vern reminds us once again to make time for those you care about and make it a priority to see them.  But I also know myself and that I have to find that balance and not over commit myself because I also need that time at home, not only to take care of the house and chores, but to renew myself.

Last night I got together with friends from church.  A small group that used to get together with Fr. Vern and others who have also since passed on.  And it's been too long since we all got together.  Life gets busy, time ticks on. But with his passing, Fr. Vern reminded us that we've allowed too much time to pass and so I'm glad we made the effort to get together last night and we toasted Fr. Vern and each other.

So I'm still learning, three years later. The relationship that Ed and I had, that filled my days and filled many years is now being replaced by relationships with various friends and they've all become important aspects of my life.  Dan continues to be my anchor and rock. He knows me best and is that voice of reason and continues to take care of his Mom.

And I still miss Ed. Some days, it's a simple "good morning" or "good night" as I begin or end my day and then I'm distracted for the rest of the day with whatever is happening in my life.  Other days, such as when I'm battling wasps, I break down because he is not here to deal with this and take care of me.  But I can't change it.  He's not coming back and he's not here to take care of me or Dan or this house.  So I need to step up to the plate and figure out how to deal with this myself.  Some days I'm strong and will tackle the issue at hand and feel proud of myself.  Other days, I give in and need to call in the professionals to help.  Like today...


Below are some pics of things I've been up to over the past month.  Still learning to live life.

Dan and I hiked to the Summit House on Skinner Mountain in mid-June.  My second official hike!

So proud of myself climbing up this rocky ledge!  Getting ready to do Mt. Monadnock in October.

When I can, I'll walk at the Quabbin Reservoir. A beautiful and peaceful place.

Quabbin, Enfield Overlook

On July 16th, Dan and I attended Leanne and Grover's wedding. Ed worked with Grover for over 20 years.

Campus Pond on UMass.  Another nice place to walk and to play Pokemon Go!

Being Still

This past week has been somewhat of a blur. Since my last post, we've held Vern's wake, funeral, and committal ceremony. They fell across three separate days; a trilogy giving honor to such a great man. Tuesday evening we held our regularly-scheduled Council meeting and we went out to McCarthy's after wards, as was our tradition. The only difference is that Vern wasn't there. The group was larger than our usual 6-7 people, because more from the Council wanted to pay tribute to Vern. We ordered our usual wings and we all shared a beer ordered in Vern's honor. There were tears, but there was also much camaraderie and laughter which Vern would have wanted.

The days following was returning to work and to "normal". I went through the motions and while at work I tried to live through Vern's example and be kind and patient and understanding with others. I still awake each day with an emptiness and I still find the loss so unbelievable. I am trying to be productive. In the mornings when I awake and dread facing another day, I recall how Ed, while battling cancer and knowing it will eventually take his life, got up and lived each day, never complaining. And Vern, feeling discomfort which ended up being a heart attack which was the start of the end of his life, kept up with his many responsibilities and bounding through the day with his usual positive attitude where no one but him could tell the discomfort he was feeling.  So when I think of this, it reminds me that I need to do the same. To get up each day and live my life to the fullest especially since the ailment I have is a broken heart.

This weekend is full of chores, things that need to get done in the yard and around the house. I've always been one to keep moving because when I don't, grief and sadness catch up to me. That is still happening. I am trying to sit quietly each morning, to enjoy the sunshine, listen to the birds, and just be still while I sip my daily cup of coffee. I'm hoping that if I sit quietly for a few minutes, I will hear Ed or Vern or God (or whatever you like to believe) speak to me. But what I find right now is that when I sit quietly, the loneliness and sadness envelope me. I know tears cleanse the soul and maybe this is just what I need to work through. I'll keep working at it though.

This morning I stopped and sat and watched a bunny outside the window. I haven't seen a bunny in years and so I just sat quietly and watched it for a bit while it ate the clover in the yard. I noticed the goldfinches outside the kitchen window and the robins nesting in two different bushes. I try not to notice instead the things that need to be done and need to get onto my "to do" list. They will get there, but I'm working to slow down, just for a few minutes, and just enjoy the peace and quiet that surrounds me and appreciate it rather than be unnerved by it. And maybe, just maybe, if I can learn to do this, I will also learn to hear the voice of Ed, Vern, or God and recognize them in signs around me. If I can just learn to be still for a moment. 

Loss of Another Dear Friend

Fr. Vern passed away Wednesday evening, June 1st. I sit here mourning his passing, with hundreds of others. I've known Vern (as I personally called him in private settings) for 21 years. Yes, I know many in the diocese of Springfield knew him this long or longer and many people have stories about their life with Vern. But this is my story...

I came to know Vern when he was first assigned to our parish. Our friendship grew over drinks and appetizers after monthly parish council meetings and stopping by the rectory after Mass each week and visiting with him and his mother. Of course those weekly visits after Mass included dragging Dan along with me. Sometimes Dan just sat and read his Harry Potter books, which him and Vern talk about. How Vern loved those books and recently told me all about his visit to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando. I remember when Vern gave Dan a box of these Harry Potter jelly beans with such gross flavors. Vern thought those were quite a hoot!

And speaking of a hoot, Vern's mother was a hoot as well. Our weekly visits to the rectory included stopping to see her as well. Vern always recalled the story of how touched she was when Dan brought a rose for Mother's Day. She was not there to receive it personally and Vern told Dan to write her a note to leave with it, which Dan begrudgingly did. Through this, though, he learned a life lesson of how that simple rose and personal note made Ida's day and she kept both until she passed.

Vern and Ed had a unique relationship as well. Although Ed was raised Catholic, he was not practicing when we met and he never returned to actively going to church. But Ed just clicked with Fr. Vern. He enjoyed our private get togethers with Vern and Vern had his clever way of getting Ed involved in our parish in small ways--whether it was the Germanfest or installing mirrors and glass at the new rectory. Ed and I stayed at Vern's condo in Maine one weekend, proof of how comfortable Ed was with Vern....and how Vern, through his unique way, brought Ed back to "church" in a different way.

My memories of Vern could go on and on so instead I'll sum it up in this way.  Yes, Vern was my pastor and priest and today I realize how I took for granted that I had the privilege of seeing him, talking with him, and giving him a hug pretty much every week for the past 21 years. I also had the privilege to know him personally and enjoyed many small get togethers with close friends where we laughed late into the night. Oh there were times we were so silly...private moments to hold dear in my heart.  I also had the privilege of sharing "behind the scenes" details and moments with Vern whether it was documenting the building of our new church and rectory or working with him to record his CDs.

My heart aches today and tears easily come to my eyes for I will miss having Vern in my life. I still cannot fathom going to Mass each week and not hearing his voice or seeing his smiling blue eyes. No more looks across the room during Council meetings knowing what each was thinking as some topic dragged on and on. No more camaraderie after Council meetings. Yes, the memories will live on in my heart forever.  But today I'm having difficulty with the fact that another great man in my life is gone.  First my father, then my brother, then Ed, then my brother-in-law Larry, and now Father Vern.

Sometimes life just sucks....  But Vern would not want me to feel this way. He showed me how friends can fill your life with laughter and love and he was an example of thoroughly enjoying and living life.  And so today, and in the days that follow, I will try to remember that and do my best to live my life by the example he set.

Vern, you lived your life serving God and through the faith you taught us and exemplified, we know you are in a glorious place right now. Why you were taken from us at this time is not for us to understand in this human life of ours for it is not our will, but God's.  Until we meet again, my friend. Until we meet again...

From one of our many trips to the Griswold Inn on a Friday night.

I love these two guys...

 

Looking Back

Some say "don't look back, keep moving forward...towards the future".  Yet, I find myself looking back quite frequently lately.  Maybe it's because looking forward is scary. The future is unsure and it fills me with sadness to think this might be all there is. So instead, I find myself looking backwards. Of course, Facebook helps with this as every couple days I get one of those "memory" reminders...1 year ago, 2 years ago, 7 years ago. How innocent and and naive I was 7 years ago.

I'm a list maker and have a regular list of "to do's".  For years I have used small notebooks and when they are full, I file them away. I'm not quite sure why I did this, but today, it allows me to look back. What was I doing 7 years ago? My "to do" list looked so different. It consisted of things like "do nails," "clip coupons," "vacuum car". I also had a long list of church-related projects. I was lucky that I could devote a lot of time to those things.

6 years ago...after Ed had been diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer...  We just returned from our trip to Italy. A trip we didn't think we were going to be able to make. What wonderful memories we made and how much we treasured that time. I recall breaking down on that trip. We got "stuck" in Italy an extra week due to volcanic ash in Iceland. It ended up being a wonderful extra week, but in the midst of trying to figure out flights and hotels with internet issues and language barriers, I cried and asked Ed how would I ever deal with these types of things without him. It was one of my rare moments of weakness fearing life without him.

I look back to 4 years ago. Dan's graduation from RWU. Ed was so proud of Dan that day and one of my favorite pictures of Ed was from that day. Several weeks later we celebrated with family and friends with a party at the house. I now recall how Ed was too tired to help setup for the party. Instead he rested upstairs in bed while Dan and I, and his friends, got things setup. As I look back, I see now that this was the beginning of the end.

3 years ago... My "to do" now begins to be so different. "uncover septic," "mow lawn," "fix ruts in driveway". I took down storms, mulched, painted, sold cars, ...bought our grave marker.

Yesterday I spent the day mowing the lawn with a riding mower that I didn't even know how to use 3 years ago. I then used the blower and trimmer that I bought myself last year. Previously I used the gas-powered ones that Ed owned but after 3 years of getting frustrated with them not starting when I needed them to, I bought myself battery-powered ones last year.  Three years ago, I had no need for these things--they were Ed's.

And this morning I'm watering my indoor plants and caring for the orchid that Dan gave me. Three years ago, the only plants that survived with me were fake ones! Ed had the green thumb and cared for the house plants as well as those in the yard. Today, I'm carrying on in his absence. Yes, there are some that have not survived...our beach rose that I bought for our 25th anniv or Ed's mini lime tree. Maybe I'll get some new ones. We'll see.

I'd like to think Ed is proud of me. At times I'm disappointed in myself that I didn't help him with these things when he was here. But we had a good division of labor. Definitely not an equal division of labor. He obviously did a lot more than me. Now I realize that. So today I thank him often for all he did for me and I hope he's listening. I just wish I told him this when he was here. And just like that, looking back can fill you with sadness as well...

Widowbago Day!

This morning I woke up early.  The sun was shining in my bedroom window and the sky is a bright clear blue and I'm excited.  Today I'm hosting a "widowbago".  What is a widowbago?  It's a social gathering of widows/widowers who have met via an online community board.  There are people from all over the world on the board and people spontaneously host a "bago" which is basically a time and place for anyone in the area to get together. The word comes from "Winnebago" and the idea of traveling to places far and near and is shortened to "Bago".

I've been to a few "Bagos".  My first one, I went with my friend Cathy and I didn't know anyone else there. But by the end of the day, I had made some new friends and, in fact, one of my closest friends now, I met at that first Bago.  These have been held at other's houses, wineries, restaurants...and they are just so relaxing and fun.  Hanging with others who get our crazy, wid life.

So today, I'm hosting one.  I wish there were more who could make it, but that's what happens with a Bago.  You pick a date and time and those who can make it, can.  Those who can't, we'll miss.  I'm looking forward to this relaxing day, just hanging out and sharing food and drink and laughing with a great group of people.

And I need this...  This past month has been tough and I can't really put my finger on why.  There are a couple things I will attribute it to whether it's true or not.  First, being at three years has filled me with sorted feelings.  At three years, I realize what I'm missing most now is the life that Ed and I had and the life we thought we'd have as we grew old.  Yes, I still miss Ed, but my grief is more for what I have lost without Ed, without my partner, without my lifelong companion.  The idea of living the rest of my life alone is scary and I realize it is something I don't necessarily want to do.

Work has also been very busy and stressful and has really made it difficult for me to find the work/life balance I was getting good at.  Each day, each week...I keep trying to find it and hope that it will come.  So far, it is alluding me but I have hope that at some point, soon, things will become more manageable.

I have also been dealing with a muscle strain that has prevented me from exercising.  It fact, early on, walking was difficult. So simply walking outside to enjoy any fresh spring air was not possible.  Working in the yard was almost impossible. Since January I had been jogging 3 miles daily on my treadmill and today I'm lucky if I can walk 2 miles each day. Yes, I'm getting better and on the road to recovery, but this injury has slowed me down tremendously and, for several days, even stopped me totally.  Not having this physical exercise I realize is impacting my mental health as well.

But today, I'm happy and excited.  And just as I write this, the cardinals are once again outside my window.  The male and female, together.  And they make me smile.  I'm looking forward to hosting my first "bago" and having my "wid" friends here at the house, filling these walls with love and laughter.

Today is starting off as a good day and I will capture this moment, because the mood can so easily change, without notice, without intent.

Three Years (or 1,095 days)

Milestones are interesting.  I mean not a day goes by that I don't think of Ed and miss him and the life we had.  But on milestone dates like today, the third sadiversary, I pause and take the time to recognize this day.  I took the day off from work because one thing I've learned over these past three years is that you can't predict how you're going to react or feel.  Grief is funny that way.  The days you brace yourself for, expecting the worse, don't materialize.  But the days you let your guard down, grief can still knock you to your knees.

So today, I start my day honoring Ed.  But today is also strange because at three years, I find myself reflecting back on the past three years.  What have I done?  What have I accomplished?  As a friend pointed out, my daily survival rate is 100%...I guess that's a good thing.  But I have a very hard time this morning wrapping my brain around "what have I done for 3 years"?

I know that first year is a blur but I was productive!  I guess that's one of the benefits of grief...you can either curl up and stay in bed all day or you get up and keep moving hoping to avoid the grief monster.  That first year I did so many projects around the house--I painted, I cleaned, I organized, I got rid of cars, I had the driveway paved, I installed gutters, we laid patios, and the list goes on.

The past two years are less clear and I'm not quite sure what I did or accomplished or how to sum up the past two years.  The house is still standing.  I've still got my job.  So I must have been doing something!  I guess it was learning to navigate this new life of mine.  How to put one foot in front of the other.  To figure out the things in my life that are important, the friends and family who have filled the void in my life and in my heart that Ed left the day he died.

What I know today, is that I want to be happy and I want to be loved.  Not necessarily in any kind of romantic way (not today at least) but to smile and laugh.  The smile and laugh that Ed so enjoyed.  The smile and laugh that brought me happiness but others as well.  The "before" life that enabled me to say "life is good".  I know I will never have the "before" life again.  But I pray I can find a happy new life.  And it scares me to say that.  I know it is what Ed would want but it is scary because I don't know what it will be.  And for someone like me who likes to be in control, this is so difficult.

I feel like I'm in survival mode, which isn't such a bad thing.  It is better than the alternative.  So today I need to just take it day by day.  I feel an urge to be more productive.  To do things around the house; to have more to show for my existence.  But that might just be too big of a goal right now.  I find keeping up with daily chores is difficult for me.  How can that be when I used to be such a productive and organized person.

What I need to do is just take it one day at a time.  I need to stop overanalyzing and worrying what the next year will bring or where I'll be in 5 years.  What I need to focus on is, day-to-day, week-to-week.  Enjoy the moment.  I'll try because I know it is what Ed would want for me and it would make him smile.  And that warms my heart.

Ed, I love you always and forever.  The only bad thing about your love and care for me, that you showed every single day, and the wonderful and happy life we shared, is that it makes me miss you and that love so much more. But I wouldn't have changed a thing and would have done it all again.  So in your honor, I will continue trying...one day at a time...  I've made it 1,095 days, what's one more...

Daring to Acknowledge Happy Moments

I feel good this morning and yesterday I had many "happy" moments.  Not due to anything big and exciting, but instead in small ways:

• I planned to leave the office early and it actually happened and without a lot of stress or effort!
• I stopped and bought myself Easter plants...an Easter Lily and a pretty, pink Hyacinth.  Ed always went out on the Saturday before Easter and bought plants.  Some for my mother, sometimes for my sister, but always some for me.  I loved their smell and they brought springtime into the house.  So instead of wallowing in the sadness that Ed is not here to buy me these plants, I continue the tradition...myself.  And instead of being sad about it yesterday, it actually made me happy as I drove home and the smell of the flowers filled my car.
• I then saw Ed's friend Marvin.  We chatted a bit...about how I'm doing, about Ed.  He remembers Ed every day and it made me happy that he has not only not forgotten but also that he talked freely to me about him. As we parted, we shared a big hug...our connection to each other being Ed and that this connection was still there, 3 years later.
• I went to Good Friday service at the church and, even though the choir wasn't singing, a fellow alto and I sang our parts to the hymns and this brought me joy.  I am so thankful for my choir friends.
• Dan came home last night.  We enjoyed homemade pizza together and then stayed up til midnight working on a jigsaw puzzle he bought for us and just listened to music and chatted and laughed.

And I recall happy moments spent with friends this past week. Time last Saturday spent with a friend just hanging out doing everyday things, enjoying each others company.  Time on Monday celebrating a birthday and sharing food, drink, and many, many laughs.


All happy moments.  Today, I am grateful that I am able to recognize and appreciate these moments.  For I know, at any time, I can find myself wallowing in my grief again and being consumed with sadness.

This time of year is especially difficult for me.  My brother's passing, Ed's passing, Larry's passing, Kay's passing.  The events of three years ago, etched so clearly in my memory.  Every day, every moment, as if it was yesterday.  I do not know how three years have passed.  I feel as though I am traveling through this abyss though.  The darkness surrounds me and I hold on fighting hard not to slip into the valley of grief and sadness.  As each day ticks by, I remember.  Tomorrow, March 27th, marks the day I called 911 and Ed went to the ER, never to come home again.  I relive every moment of that day.  And, tomorrow, is Easter.  Easter joy that has eluded me for three years.  Three years ago, we did not even celebrate Easter.  We foolishly thought we'd postpone it until Ed was out of the hospital and better.  Easter 2013 never happened for me or my family.  It was appropriate, though...only grief and sadness and death that year.

So at some level, I fear tomorrow.  Because as much as I try to focus on the good things and appreciate what I have in my life, grief does not work like that.  It's always lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce when you least expect it.  But what I know, and what I fight hard for, is getting through it.  Getting past the depths of tears and sadness to try to live.  To appreciate what I have.  To appreciate my friends and family.  To appreciate the happy moments.  Like those from yesterday and this past week...

Pretty Easter plants

Brings such peace...

From a hike we took on March 12th. So blessed to have such a great son!

When I'm Gone Lyrics

I just came across this song, accidentally selecting it from Spotify.  The words move me deeply and tears fall from my eyes.  But the final lines give me a very small sliver of hope.  I hope I will learn where I belong...

A bright sunrise will contradict the heavy fog that weighs you down
In spite of all the funeral songs, the birds will make their joyful sounds
You'll wonder why the Earth still moves.
You'll wonder how you'll carry on.
But you'll be okay on that first day when I'm gone
Dusk will come with fireflies and Whippoorwill and crickets call.
And every star will take its place in silvery gown and purple shawl
You'll lie down in our big bed
Dread the dark and dread the dawn.
But you'll be alright on that first night when I'm gone.
You will reach for me in vain, you'll be whispering my name
As if sorrow were your friend and this world so alien
But life will call with daffodils and morning glorious blue skies.
You'll think of me - some memory, and softly smile to your surprise.
And even though you love me still, you will know where you belong.
Just give it time
We'll both be fine when I'm gone.

---"When I'm Gone" by Joey+Rory

 

My Waiting Room

My apologies for being absent.  I honestly have no good reason.  The days tick by one-by-one and when I pause and look up, somehow three weeks have passed.  I'm not quite sure how that happened.

It's another Sunday morning and I sit here quietly browsing the internet and drinking my cup of coffee.  Sunday's are my relaxing, take-it-slow, day.  There are usually some chores thrown in just out of necessity.  But I try to do any errands and most chores on Saturday so that Sunday can be a day of relaxing.

Two weeks ago was Valentine's Day.  I spent time with some fellow widowed girlfriends.  I figure instead of us sitting around missing what we used to have, we'll get together and share each other's company.  There was dinner, roses, chocolates, and lots of good conversation.  What else could a girl ask for?!

Dan remembered me on Valentine's Day and sent me chocolate the week before and sent flowers to me at work the Friday before.  Both of these were surprises and the flower delivery in particular brought tears to my eyes.  You see, Ed always sent me flowers--for every birthday, anniversary, Valentine's Day.  And for Dan to remember that and to have the forethought to do the same for me, touched me beyond belief.  I know his father would be so proud of him.  I know I am.

Today I'm off to have lunch with a group of fellow wids.  Some I know and have gotten together with before; some I have never met before.  I find it ironic, though, that I'm looking forward to this event since I am usually not this adventurous and would not drive to some place I've never been to before to meet people I didn't know, especially alone.  However, one of my good friends will be there, so it makes it less frightening.


I'm keeping busy while finding the balance of not being "too" busy.  I recognize when I'm too busy, that life becomes too stressful.  I'm learning to say "no" and take life at a slower pace (or at least attempt to).  Thankfully, winter has been kind this year and I can see signs that spring is on its way.

So I'm here.  Am I doing good?  I'm not sure...I'm surviving though.  In a book I'm reading, they reference a "waiting room"...the phase between initial grief and whatever the next phase of our life should be.  I'm starting to move out of this waiting room.  I'm not sure what the next chapter of my life will be.  I'm afraid and I want so desperately to stay in my waiting room, where it's safe.  But Ed is not coming back to me and I cannot go back to my previous life.  So it is time to move forward.  To step out of this safe place I've been in where I don't need to face the future. An unknown future.  A scary future.  But also, maybe, just maybe if I'm lucky, it can be a future that can bring happiness and love again.  But I'll never know if I remain here in the waiting room alone, only looking backwards.  The door from my waiting room is open and so today I stand in the doorway, peeking out, tentatively dipping my toe into whatever awaits me.  It's scary.  I'm afraid.  But I'll keep the door open and take it slowly...

Superbowl Sunday

The sun is shining this morning and the sky is a crisp, clear blue without a cloud in sight.
The sun reflects brightly off the snow that fell two days ago.
I sit here in my warm house, slowly enjoying a warm cup of coffee.
It is silent.  The only noise in the house is the clicking of the heater.
There is no noise outside.  The snow provides a blanket of quiet.

And I am content.  For the moment.
For I know how quickly this can change.
The quietness will turn into loneliness which will just remind me of my loss.
But for now, I will be content.

I have set out for 2016 to be the year about "me".  I know that can sound selfish.  But after almost three years, I'm trying to figure out what makes me feel better, more restful, more peaceful, more content.  I'm not quite sure about "happy" yet.  I'm learning to recognize the glass half full, but it does not come easy.  Oh how I miss the girl from three years ago.  How joyful and innocent I was.

Today is Superbowl Sunday.  Do I care about football?  Not really.  But Ed loved it and watched it every week so it was always on. For me, the Superbowl was about Ed cooking a pot of chili on the stove and various food for the game.  I still recall the ribs he'd slowly cook--yum, one of my favorites and he knew it.

So today I will have a meal cooking, no ribs, but a low-calorie crock pot meal, and I'll watch the game to see the commercials and halftime show.  If I'm lucky, I'll share comments via text with close friends.

I will enjoy being home in my warm house.
Where the silence will be replaced by the noise of the TV.
Where the smells of dinner will fill the air.
Where texting with friends will be my company.  They won't replace Ed, but they will help fill the void.
And for that, I'm grateful.
It should be a good day.
And I will be content...

T-Shirts

Today I finished cleaning out the dresser drawers in the bedroom.  I wasn't planning on it.  I had some gifts I needed to put away from Christmas that were still sitting out.  So as I tried to make room, I found myself organizing and sorting through my drawers.  I sorted through the "sock" drawer which contains half my socks and half of some of Ed's socks that I held onto.  You know, those Hanes-type socks that I could wear while working in the yard and not worry about ruining.  I had sorted through them in the first year.  Today I sorted again and purged more still keeping an adequate supply for those dirty, summer jobs.

There were three drawers of Ed's t-shirts that have been left untouched.  I wore some of these shirts.  Mostly as "work" shirts.  Shirts I didn't mind ruining or getting dirty while at the same time finding comfort in wearing what were his clothes.

As I rearranged my clothes and realized I could benefit from using those three drawers, I began the sorting process.  Three piles--a pile of shirts I would keep as my "work" shirts or to lounge around the house; a pile of shirts I have no need for; and a pile of shirts that reminded me specifically of Ed.

The dresser drawers are now well organized.  I have a bag of clothes to donate and I still have one drawer of "Ed's shirts".  The closets still need work.  Mine needs to be organized badly and, at some point, I do need to continue cleaning out Ed's closet.  It's about two-thirds done.  What I've learned though is that you can't rush it.  I will get to the rest of his closet when it feels right.  There is no planning, it just seems to happen and so I will go with that.  Thankfully, I'm in no rush and can take my time, just like today.

The one remaining drawer of Ed's shirts that I was not able to part with today.  Special memories...

Boxing Up Memories

I took down the Christmas tree yesterday.  It was overdue. I was planning to do it last weekend but between a combination of needing to work and being sick, that did not happen.  So I was determined to get the tree down and the few, sparse Christmas decorations put away yesterday.

What I wasn't prepared for was the few bouts of tears that occurred along the way.  As I removed ornaments from the tree and boxed them up, I would recall the memory of each piece.  The glass ornaments I packed back up in their original boxes with price tags from some store that has long since closed.  Ed and I would have gone out and bought these on our first Christmas together.  I'm sure at the time we thought we were spending a fortune as I glanced at the original price tags of $2.97 and $3.99.  The $12.99 we paid for the beautiful angel for the top of tree.  Yes, our selection was timeless and I still think she's beautiful.  Ed would have picked these out.  Yes, we would have been shopping together and browsing the selection.  But Ed had an eye for what he liked and didn't like.  I'm sure we spent a good amount of time perusing the selection with Ed carefully making each selection.

Naturally there were also the "special" ornaments....Our "First Christmas Together"....two of them.  The one bought in 1982 by me and Ed when we were living together, but not yet married.  And then the one from 1984 from my sister-in-law that commemorated that "First Christmas Together" as a married couple.

I also had the task of boxing up all of Dan's ornaments.  Every year, we (and now I) have given Dan a dated ornament to commemorate some event or activity in his life during that year.  Each year, with each ornament, I have enclosed a written note explaining why that particular ornament was selected.  Naturally, these conjured up memories.  Memories from when he was younger and the ornaments reflected his life as a child--coloring, swing sets, and playing ball...and later ones reflecting the life of a young man--studying in Italy, graduating college, his first apartment.  These brought warm memories of many years of a wonderful life and how blessed we were and ignorant of that fact.

The tears didn't come then.  But they came later as I packed up the Santa that Ed bought me from a local craft fair.  We bought the Santa together and then Ed contacted the woman who made it (she lived locally) and bought me the Mrs. Claus and Elf as a surprise gift.  So every year the three of them are placed on our stairs.  And the tears came as I recalled Ed's thoughtfulness and how sweet he was to me and how I miss that so much.

But the tears came too when I packed up the Tigger that Dan had bought Ed.  Ed loved Tigger and Dan and I had taken a bus trip to NYC with some other family members.  Ed didn't want to go (not a big fan of bus trips) and so he stayed home.  Dan found this in the Disney store and bought it for his father with his own money.  Ed loved it which explains the wet eyes that ensued as I hugged that Tigger tight before packing him away with the other decorations.


There weren't many decorations to put away though.  I didn't put many out.  Somehow time got away from me and the few that got put up were done the week before Christmas.  But there were so many that I didn't put out and I feel bad about that.  The collection of Byers Choice carolers and nutcrackers.  Ed bought me every Byers Choice and each year he picked out one that was dated for that year.  I remember telling him one year that I had too many and he really needed to stop buying them for me.  He did, that next year....when he died.

At some level I feel bad that I fell short with Christmas this year.  There was no baking.  The decorations were minimal.  Ed would have been disappointed for he loved my cookies and loved Christmas.  But he would have been here to help.  At one point, Dan asked me why I didn't have enough time.  At first, I was miffed thinking he was judging me, but he wasn't.  It was just a question.  And as I pondered this question, I do know that work was more demanding than usual and required more of my time this year.  Time off that I usually took to prepare for the holidays was cut short or non-existent.  So that was part of it.

The other part is that this year the holidays were very difficult for me.  As I'm told, it's usually the second year that is the hardest.  The year when the grief is not as heavy and life is not as much of a blur as that first year.  However, last year, we were dealing with my mother's illness so there was no time to think about me or my life.  So maybe this year was difficult because the entire year was difficult and because the reality of what is now my life I am faced with more clearly.

There is a sadness that has totally enveloped me these past few months. In particular as I watch others whose lives have continued on "as usual".  They go home to their happy homes filled with loved ones to greet them.  They have husbands who are there when there are tasks to be done but also to provide that emotional support at the end of  a difficult day.  They laugh and do things together and their lives have returned to what they were before.  I am resentful of this.  I am jealous of this.  It hurts.

My house continues to be empty with the only sound being the ticking of the clock.  There is no laughter filling the air; just memories that float through my mind.  There is no one here to greet me at the end of a long day, to pick me up, or just give me a hug.  There are just pictures of what was my happy, love-filled family.  The three of us...me, Ed, and Dan...reminders of the things we did together, the happy times.  The past.

But life moves on and although some tell me I can leave my tree up year round if I really wanted to, I'm too much of a perfectionist and control freak to allow that.  So the decorations are now all down and packed away for another year.  Another year where I will try to live this life of mine without the love of my life.  Without my anchor to keep me grounded; without my rudder to help steer me in the right direction.

Maybe next Christmas will be different.  But then again, maybe not....

2016: A New Year

Another year has passed.
Another year of my so called life.
Another year older.

I am tired.  I am exhausted.  Each year that passes just wears me out.
So with a new year, like so many others, I have great hope for the new year.
Maybe this year I can find happiness.
Maybe this year I can feel good about life.
Maybe this year won't feel like groundhog day where each day blurs into the next, repeating the same grief day after day.

One can only hope.
Of course, I realize I have to work at it as well.
But I don't have the energy so I will push myself.  A little each day.

I have decided that 2016 is going to be about me.
Being selfish and finding and doing what makes me feel good and makes me feel happy.
Of course the hard thing is that I don't know what I want or what I need.
Not without Ed.  HE made me feel good; HE made me happy.

I have spent most of my life, in particular the last few years, doing what others expect or what they need me to do for them.
But this year is going to be about what I want, what I need...yes, very selfish I know.
So that is my challenge for 2016.
I'll let you know how that goes...