Trying to Find Happiness

I miss the days when I used to sleep so soundly.  Ed used to get up frequently and there were times he would go sleep in the living room because he "didn't want to wake me up".  I kept telling him I never even hear him get up.  And it was true.  I would go to bed and would fall quickly into a deep sleep and not awake until morning.  How I long for those days again when I slept so peacefully.  Now I wake frequently and my sleep is restless.  I remember last year when a bat ended up in the house and it was flying around our bedroom one evening.  I had woken up and noticed it and now I go to bed each night fearing the same thing.  Not that any one of us (Dan was home too at the time) could do much to prevent it and we all looked pretty silly trying to get rid of it.  But now I'm alone if something like this happens again.  Would I deal with it if it did happen again?  Sure.  But do I want to?  No.

I find I also don't like the silence in the house.  Ed always had the TV on and it used to drive me crazy.  Now I have the TV on because it fills the heavy silence.  Some people find comfort and peace in the silence, but for me, at least for now, it's too deafening and lonely.

I do try to find the slight glimpses of happiness in my life, but it is so hard.  I'm afraid at times that I won't find it again.  I worked in the yard the other day and my mother asked if I found joy doing that.  I don't know what joy is right now.  Did I find satisfaction in a job well done...yes.  Did I find joy?  I can't say I did.  Joy is alluding me right now.  Will it ever return?  Will I ever laugh and smile again from pure enjoyment?  Right now I don't know.  I know that needs to be my goal.  And while I can't imagine joy and happiness without Ed, I also fear that I won't be able to find it either without him.

I am so thankful for my family and friends though because they keep me going.  And I'm someone who needs to make lists and get things done.  And I have too many things that need to be done to just wallow in my misery.

But I can't live in fear and misery.  So I'll arise each day and I will put one foot in front of the other and move through my day.  I will find small things to smile about.  Such as our beautiful rhododendron bushes that look gorgeous with all their flowers.  My neighbor asked what I did to make them look so good. My answer?  Ed.  Because I don't know what he did.  But he pruned them and shaped them and they are truly gorgeous.  I also noticed this morning flowers blooming on the rose bush that I bought for us to mark our 25th wedding anniversary.  And the bunnies are in the yard again.  How Ed loved them and he would always left them treats.  And yesterday I found a small snapping turtle outside the garage when I went to leave for work.  I'm glad I noticed it because I was able to move it out of the tire path.  Otherwise there would have been a crunch when I backed out (yuck)!

So appreciate the joy and happiness in your life and be sure to recognize it.  It is so easy to focus on the things negatives--the stress of work, the demands of home and family.  But try to find the bright spots and the good things.  I used to be so good at doing that and so, again today, I will try to focus on these things even if they are some and only last a moment.  I hope you do the same.

One of our two rhododendron bushes

Our beach rose bush.

The little turtle I found yesterday morning.

Pine Grove

I've decided to update the blog this evening instead of in the morning because I had a good evening and I wanted to capture this feeling while it was still with me.

After work this evening, I headed over to Pine Grove Golf Course.  I still had the King of the Grove plaque that they had brought to Ed's wake to display and I wanted to return it to them.  Ed played in the Wednesday night handicap league and so each Wednesday since the funeral I tentatively planned to try to get over to Pine Grove to return the plaque, but something else always seemed to come up.

Tonight though, as I left for work, the sun was still shining and I didn't have any other firm plans so off I went.  In all the years Ed belonged to Pine Grove, I never went there until just last year.  It was one day after his treatment and he wanted to stop by the golf course to see about Dan filling in for him temporarily while he wasn't feeling good.  He asked if I wouldn't mind us going and I'm glad I did since I learned where to go and also got to meet Dagmara for the first time that day.

Today when I arrived the parking lot was full and inside the club house I found Dagmara, Gil, and Shirley who all greeted me with hugs.  While I waited for Mike to come in after his round, I had a bite to eat for dinner and Gil kept me company.  I think Mike was surprised to see me and we greeted each other with smiles and hugs.  Mike then introduced me to most of the guys.  As Gil pointed out, these were Ed's friends...the guys he saw every week over many years.  These were people I had never met before, but they all knew Ed and liked him a lot.  And they spoke highly of Ed and how much they enjoyed him and now how much they also missed him.  I felt so welcomed and I know Ed was smiling down on us and glad that they all showed such care to me.

I can see why Ed liked it at Pine Grove.  There were times over the years when he questioned why he drove to Northampton to play golf each week wehn there were courses closer to home.  But he knew, and I could tell tonight as well, that it was the people that brought him back to Pine Grove each year.  I wish I had gone to visit earlier--some Wednesday evening when Ed was still here so I could see him with these guys.  I can just picture them laughing and telling stories while sharing a drink or having a bite to eat.

Of course if I had done that, they all would have wondered why I was there..."the wife" checking up on Ed.  Tonight, though, I could see them looking at me--some wondering who this woman was hanging out on a men's night, some with sad eyes knowing I'm Ed's "widow" (I hate that word, by the way), and some trying to get another glimpse of Ed or have another moment with Ed through me.  For it was clear that they missed him as well and they were saddened by his passing also.  And as much as I found comfort being among them, I would like to think that my being there also brought them some level of comfort as well.

As I got ready to leave, there were more hugs and invitations to stop by again--they're all there every Wednesday.  I don't think I'll be there every Wednesday, but I do plan to go back for King of the Grove later in the year.  And Dan is planning to come back for that evening as well and play a round with the guys.  And if Dan ever feels like playing a round of golf at some point this summer, I'd be glad to go and just sit on the deck and relax.  Because, just like Ed did for many years, I find comfort there and it feels like home.

Thank you all at Pine Grove for being Ed's friends and for being such an important part of his life.  And thank you Gil, Shirley, Dagmara, Mike and all the guys for making me feel so welcomed as well.  I know Ed thought fondly of all of you.  I don't think he could have ever imagined how caring and thoughtful you all would be to me as well.  Thank you for a special evening and helping me to smile and laugh even if for just a bit.

Can't Check it Off the List

The rain this morning matches my mood.  I am just sad and teary and I just don't get this grieving process.  I've been putting one foot in front of the other and although I still can't find the joy in life right now, I've been moving forward in some sense, accomplishing tasks.  But last night, grief snuck up on me again.  It was triggered while I was eating dinner, alone, at the table.  There are many people I know of that sit alone each night for dinner.  So I am not unique in that.  But my mind turns to the fact that I'm nourishing my body and I have no interest in nourishing my body.  Because nourishment is vital to survival and I do not feel like surviving.  I would really like to just crawl into a hole and wallow in my grief.  But I know I can't do that because it's selfish and as much as it would be easier and less painful, I know I can't and so I must try to move through this grief.

I am just annoyed because there have been "good" days--defined by getting through the day without tears, without feeling my broken heart.  And so I think I'm learning to adjust to my new life, my life without Ed.  But then a day like yesterday hits me, defined as a "bad" day, and I feel like I can never move forward.  But, as I've said before, grief is not a forward process, it is sideways.  And so I take a deep breath and I try to keep moving.

And that is what I will do today.  I will get ready for work.  I will plug through my day with the goal to just make it through the day.  I am just so surprised how difficult this process is.  I keep wanting to think of overcoming grief as a task or a goal that you set and that one day you can just say "accomplished" and check it off the list.  But I'm realizing that is not the case.  Grief is now part of my life and it will be something I carry with me forever.  Some days it will stay in it's nice little compartment and there will be other days where it sneaks out.  Obviously, today is one of those days.

Preparing to Die

Dammit....  Just when I think I'm doing better, the grief comes.  It sneaks up on you, when you least expect it.  And all I can focus on are the things I should have done or said.  I spent yesterday working in the yard--mowing and trimming.  And it makes me sad since this was something Ed always did and how I wish I had spent more time doing this with him, working alongside him.  But instead, we each had our separate list of "to do's" and what I would given to have him here so we could do more of the everyday things together.

And we did do everyday things together, but when you're grieving, you don't think rationally.  For example, I remember how much he loved going grocery shopping and we would only go together when I knew I could afford the time to make this an adventure.  If I wanted to get in and out, I didn't bring Ed.  For Ed loved to walk up and down every aisle and browse and figure out what he might want to buy to cook.  It was an adventure and not something you could rush or just check off your list.

But I also look back at a year ago and remember how tired and achey Ed was.  And as I look back I realize he was in pain and tired for a long time, but we both tried to just move on and ignore it.  Or as I like to call it "live life".  And as I try to learn about how to take care of all the things around the house, I'm mad that we didn't plan better.  For we knew he had cancer, but we never talked about what I needed to know to take care of things around the house or with the vehicles.  Ed just took care of these things even just days before he went into the hospital.

On one hand I guess it's a good thing.  We lived life each day and did not focus on "when I die".  Sure we made some jokes and there were a few small things we discussed.  But you would think I would have filled a notebook of all the things I needed to know or do once Ed was gone.  But we didn't.  And on one hand, I'm mad that we were so unprepared for this.  But then again, if I've learned anything, you need to focus on life and not death.  You need to live each day as if it's your last, but that does not mean spending all your time focusing on and preparing to die.

Because no matter what, there is just not enough time.  In days, in weeks, in years.  And if I could have one more day with Ed would I want to spend it asking him about where to bring my car, or how to run the mower?  Or would I just want to spend it sitting with him, in his arms, and recalling fond memories and telling each other how much we love each other.

You decide...

Memorial Day

Memorial Day...one year ago today we were basking in the warmth from Dan's college graduation party.  We had so many friends and family here and Monday we just hung out with a few long-distance friends who hadn't left yet.  It was a nice day and both Ed and Dan were here.  And today I sit here and Dan is in Waltham and Ed is gone and the house is quiet and it makes me sad.

Yesterday I was busy because busy-ness is good and I worked through my "to do" list.  I got the whole house cleaned and I even fixed the bathroom faucet (I am quite proud of these little tasks I'm learning to accomplish).   In the morning I baked brownies for my sister's picnic later in the day and I even whipped out a batch of banana bread using a recipe Ed had found.  As I was flipping through the paper, I find it funny how the first sale ad I usually reach for now is Rocky's or Home Depot.

It was nice to see family and friends at the picnic.  Of course, since it was so chilly and there were passing showers, we were all in the house so that made for quite a crazy/loud day.  It was nice though and I had great food for dinner and even brought a little home that will be another meal this week.  I wish I had more time to chat with individuals, but it was a little hectic so that wasn't possible.  After dinner most everyone was headed to the ice cream stand and I was tired and decided to head home.  Giving the hugs good-bye was the first time during the day that I began to tear up.  Not sure why.  I think it was the loneliness I was feeling.  It's amazing how you can feel lonely while being surrounded by so many people.

When I came back into the house last night, it was still neat and clean--just how I left it.  I used to complain that when I used to clean the house, it didn't stay clean for long.  Not that anyone was a slob, but there were three of us living here.  It wasn't that Ed and Dan made a mess, there was just evidence of them around the house--shoes in the hallway, footprints on the living room carpet...  And last night when I came home the house was still how I left it and it made me miss both of my guys.

The sad moments still creep up on me at the oddest times and are triggered by the oddest things.  This morning it was checking the cabinets and freezer to see what I might need for groceries.  I see food that Ed and I bought together or food we bought because it was something he particularly liked.  And the sadness and slight tears come again.

I slept well last night, though, over 8 hours.  I haven't done that in months.  And it felt so good.  I have a list of "to do's" again for today and I haven't heard from Ed's family yet on services for Larry.  I'm trying to give them space at this difficult time because I know how important it is for them to have their time together.  I hope to hear today though when his service will be.  I know I've got my brother's burial on Saturday and then Bryce's (Missy's son) Baptism on Sunday.  Both a sad and joyous occasion next weekend.

But today, let's remember those who have fought for this country so that we can enjoy this weekend and the freedom to do what we want and enjoy life, even with it's sad moments.   God Bless....

Where is God?

Yesterday was Confirmation at our church and I went and sang with our choir.  It was a beautiful ceremony and we were blessed to have Bishop McDonnell with us.  The music was moving and the faith of these young people warmed my heart and helped me to look more closely at my own faith.  Although I turned to God often when Ed was in the hospital, since that time, I feel more distant and I struggle to feel God and keep my faith when I'm puzzled by the death and sadness I am experiencing and many around me are experiencing.

But at yesterday's ceremony two of the Confirmandi gave witness statements and they both moved me in different ways.  One talked about God and how you can't see or touch him but instead you see Him in those around you and the love of family and friends.  He talked about the loss of his aunt, who he was very close to, to colon cancer last year and his words about his faith and her faith and her peace as she passed  brought memories of Ed and brought tears to my eyes.  The other talked about finding her faith and being closer to God and finding true happiness in a relationship with God.  I know I have lost my relationship with God.  Sure I turn to Him in times of need, but I don't take the time each day to sit quietly and listen to Him.  I guess I was listening yesterday though.

After Mass, due to circumstances I won't bore you with, Fr. Vern ended up inviting me to dinner at the Rectory with the Bishop.  It was a very nice evening especially when Fr. Charles walked in.  Fr. Charles had heard Larry was sick, but had not yet heard that he had passed.  He asked that I keep him informed in terms of service since he lived in Ware for a number of years and knows Mary and her family.  Fr. Charlie and I had some good conversation as he continues to mourn the loss of his sister who passed suddenly in January.  (She was one of my mother's best friends.)  I sat between Fr. Charlie and Fr. Vern at dinner and I felt blessed to have them both in my life.

Bob and Louise were also there--a couple Ed loved hanging out with.  Ed was fairly quiet until he was comfortable and got to know someone.  Bob and Louise were people Ed was very comfortable with and he would have enjoyed last night's dinner with them.  In fact, I think he would have enjoyed talking to the Bishop who is a baseball fan and knows all kinds of baseball trivia.  Ed would have enjoyed exchanging obscure facts with him...and ribbing him about the Yankees.

All in all, it was a nice evening with good company and very good food.  Of course, I couldn't help but notice that there were three couples around the table and then there was Bishop McDonnell, Fr. Charlie, Fr. Vern, and me.  Yes, the fact that I am no longer part of a couple is how I ended up around that table.  But it was also sad as I saw these couples enjoy the evening and then go home where they could share stories and memories of the evening.  And as I walked alone to my car in the darkness, I felt the darkness and missed Ed.

But I remembered to thank God for such a nice evening with friends and I found comfort and warmth in the memories we shared about Ed.  And I was reminded that God was with us in those of us around that table and the laughter and smiles and hugs we shared.

No More Pain

It is with great sadness that I share that Larry passed yesterday afternoon.  The only comforting thoughts are that his pain has ended and that I know that Ed was there to meet him when he passed.  Larry was in such great pain the past few weeks and even the morphine they gave him did not give him relief.  I am in shock at how quickly this happened, but the similarities in his final weeks and days to what Ed experienced were so similar that it is eerie.  And the only comfort you can get is knowing that the loved one you saw in such pain and suffering is now at peace.  And I believe, as I did with Ed, that when death came, that they felt warmth and comfort and peace.  For they did not grieve the lost of the loved ones they would be leaving behind, but instead were welcoming the warmth and love of the loved ones who were waiting to greet them.

And at this time, there are two things I realize.  #1:  That I have been so blessed my entire life.  As I look back over my entire life, with the exception of my father's passing, my life has been blessed by many years of happiness.  Sure there were small things throughout life but overall, life has been good to me and my family.  Even Ed's cancer diagnosis, although shocking and scary initially, we were blessed with another great three years of good times.  But the last three months have been more overwhelming and enough grief to make up for my lifetime.

In March, I lost my brother, at age 51, without warning.  He was fine one moment and passed the next.  In April, I lost Ed, at age 60, after three+ years with cancer but within four weeks of complications that landed him in the hospital.  And now in May, Larry, at age 55, after only three weeks of being in the hospital and receiving a cancer diagnosis.  All different.  And this is where I realize #2:  that there is no "good" way to die.  Each one is different and no one way is better than the other.  But instead we are reminded that any one of us could be taken at any moment.  So live your life with no regrets.  Treat others with respect and always, always, leave loved ones with loving words, because it truly could be the last time you see them.

And I ask at this time that you keep Ed's family in your prayers and thoughts, especially his sister Mary who was by Larry's side this whole time and who now has lost both her brothers to cancer.  How quickly our lives change.

Larry, may you rest in peace.  And don't you, Ed, Mike, Billy, and our fathers get too rowdy up there.  We want to be sure you're there to greet us when it's our time to join you.

God bless you all and the rest of our family and friends.

TGIF

I woke up this morning with mixed emotions.  First off, I guess I set my alarm to "alarm" mode this morning so I awoke startled and with my heart racing.  I usually set it to "music" just for this reason.   I am not a fan of waking to an alarm sound.  So as I laid there trying to get my heartbeat back to normal, I recalled the last time I was awoken like this which was when my phone rang in the middle of the night to let me know Ed had passed.  I turned that moment over in my mind for a while before I finally got myself out of bed.  And I started my day, as I have for the past two months, making the bed, a task that Ed used to do every morning.  Gosh I miss him.

And it's another Friday so I count the time since Ed's funeral--4 weeks.  And for the first time in 8 weeks, Dan will not be coming home tonight and although I fully encouraged and support this decision, I'll miss him tonight as well since it became our routine.  But we need to begin a new routine.

One of the things I'm recognizing, and not because it's always apparent, is that I am not functioning at 100%.  There are moments when I'm forgetful or I do things wondering afterwards what I was thinking.  I had one of those moments yesterday that I want to share with you (you'll need to bear with me as I recap this little story).

Each morning, my routine consists of getting a cup of coffee and reading the paper.  And don't ask why but I typically read the paper from the day before (it's just the way it's been).  Now over the past 2 months, I don't necessarily always get to reading the paper.  I'm distracted or have other things I need to tend to, so that part of my morning routine has been "off".  But yesterday morning I thought I'd sit down and read the paper from the previous day (Wednesday).  But I couldn't find the paper.  I was quite puzzled because I could have sworn I brought it in.  But I guess not because it was not in any of the usual places or where I might have left it by mistake.  Obviously, I did not bring the paper in the day before which I have not been consistent about.

So once I saw the Thursday morning paper delivered, I headed out to get it fully expecting that the Wednesday paper must still be out in the paper tube.  But nope...only a single plastic bag with the paper that was just delivered.  So I was quite puzzled and wrote it off as one of those things I just won't ever figure out...the mystery of the missing paper.

I came back into the house, took the paper out of the bag, and tossed it on the kitchen table on top of the pile where a few other newspaper inserts and magazines were.  As I sat down and grabbed Thursday's paper, what do I find?  Wednesday's paper...sitting there underneath!!  Huh?  How in the world did I ever miss it earlier?  I know I can be a scatterbrain lately, but I didn't think I was that bad!  But here was the Wed paper, the one I was looking for earlier, that was clearly sitting here now staring me in the face.  Did I pick up two papers from the paper tube and not even realize it?  I don't think so because I was quite sure there was only one plastic bag/paper.  Maybe the other paper was tucked behind and I just didn't realize it?  Gosh, I am really losing my mind.  How in the world could it have been sitting on the table all this time and I didn't see it?  Or how could I have picked it up and carried it in the house without realizing I had two things in my hand?  It was raining so I snugged the bag to my body as I carried it into the house.  Was there really two things I was carrying and I didn't realize it?  Either of these scenarios must have been right because the only other explanation was that the paper mysteriously just appeared and I really don't think God uses miracles to deliver papers (at least I hope not!).  So I chalked it up to my forgetfulness and my lack of clarity. Lesson learned and I moved on with my day, reading Wednesday's paper.

Now this morning I once again got my cup of coffee and then sat down to read Thursday's paper (which I knew exactly where it was) and there on the front page I read the following:

...Today's delivery also contains Wednesday's newspaper, which was delayed due to press problems....

Really?  Don't they know they shouldn't mess with my mind like that?  But it made me shake my head at myself and at the situation and I laughed a little inside and I hope you did as well as you read this.  TGIF and may you have a good day!

Angels on Earth

Do you know what yesterday was?  I almost did not realize it...  The one-month anniversary of Ed's passing.  Funny that every Monday, I count the number of weeks since Ed passed.  And on every Friday, I count the number of weeks since Ed's funeral.  But May 22nd--a Wednesday--snuck up on me as the "one-month" mark.  And just like that, we go from counting weeks to beginning to count months.  But I am not sadden by this.  But rather I am touched by the thoughtfulness and care of a woman I work with who reminded me of the significance of this day with her caring and thoughtful words yesterday.  I was even more touched when I arrived home late last night to find a card in the mail from her with kind, loving words.

It is people like this that I am so amazed and touched by.  Their thoughtfulness and caring is tremendous and I truly believe this particular woman is an angel on earth (and her mother would be so proud of what a wonderful daughter she raised!).  Throughout this entire ordeal, she has always been there, quietly in the background, sending notes of support, just taking care of things at work so I could focus on Ed.  She is truly a remarkable woman who puts so much into work but also devotes the time and energy to think of others as well.  And I am reminded that in this crazy world that we are living in, it is the people in our lives and being caring to others that is important.  And at much as the busy-ness of work and life can distract us at times, I am reminded how thankful I am for all the people I work with who really care about each other.  That is what is important--the people in our lives.

So it was without question last night that I headed down to Baystate Hospital after work to see my brother-in-law Larry.  For, yes, after a short stint in rehab, he is back in the hospital with complications as a result of the pancreatic cancer that he was just diagnosed with earlier this month.  Again, respecting his privacy, I will not go into details in this blog.  But he is tired and in such pain.  I spoke with his sister Mary yesterday morning and it was good to talk to her.  And it's very unfortunate that my "experience"--that one month with Ed in the hospital--I can now use to advise her.  As she tells me about Larry, there is such similarity and familiarity with what Ed went through.  I can't do anything to ease Larry's pain or make things better.  But what I can do, just as others with "experience" did for me, is impart my experiences and knowledge.

When Ed was in the hospital, there was a former colleague of mine who I reached out to and he was so helpful to me because he was "experienced" having traveled this path with his own spouse.  His advise and input was helpful to me and I was and still am so thankful for that and him.  And now it is my turn to play this role with Ed's sister and help her navigate this world of cancer and medical care and attempting to make the right decisions.  And I'm sorry that any of us have to be "experienced" at this at all.

Last night I also spoke to my dear friend Anna who is thankfully now home after her surgery and a short time in rehab.  A bright spot and someone who is feeling better and doing better.  It was so good to hear her voice.  Anna and I have known each other for a number of years and her husband Bob passed in February.  So not only did we talk about all the things we typically would talk about, but we also talked about Bob and Ed and it was comfortable and good.

So this morning I am thankful for all the wonderful people in my life.  I am blessed to be surrounded by so many friends, family, and colleagues who are thoughtful, kind, and loving.  And for that I am very thankful.

Losing Time in the Day

My mind wanders here and there and I lose time.  I could not tell you what I did last night after I got home from work.  I know I had dinner and washed dishes, but I know that didn't take me hours, so I'm not sure what I did with my time.  Maybe I was busy watching the weather.  Maybe I was just hanging out on the computer.  I couldn't tell you.

I continue to try to plug through things on my "to do" list.  I have a number of phone calls to return and I hate making phone calls.  Ed always did that.  Part of the reason is that you need to return calls during the day and once I get to work, I forget about these things.  I have made myself a list, but yesterday I neglected to pull that list out so it wasn't staring me in the face.  Need to do that today.

Which brings up one of my little annoyances and that is people who say they'll do something and then you never hear from them again.  If you're not interested in doing a job or helping me, then say "no" instead of telling me you will and then weeks go by and now I need to call you back because I haven't heard from you.  I will only call you back once and then I will move on.  But really?  You offered to help me, I was counting on your help, and then nothing.  I don't know why I should be surprised, though.  Although my life has turned upside down, it doesn't mean that you have changed your habits.  Lesson learned--I really can't count on you so you'll come off my list and move on.

On a brighter note...there are those who continue to show compassion and care and so I will focus my energy and thoughts on you.  Know how much I appreciate those who still cut me some slack.  That you are able to recognize that I am not operating at 100%--even though I may not even recognize it--and adjust your expectations accordingly.  And for those who still drop me the occasional note or card to let me know you're still thinking of me.  That you recognize that I am still grieving and that you still care and think of me and Dan, warms my heart.

And on that note, I will face the day.

Hug Your Loved Ones

When you're feeling sorry for yourself or spending your time focusing on all that is wrong or unfair with your own life, it helps to pick up your head and look around and see that there are others who may be suffering more.  Not that it is a contest and not that another person's grief or difficulties make your own go away.  It is not a competition, but it does help to give you perspective.

2013 has not been a good year and I keep hoping it will change.  But the recent tornadoes in Oklahoma show that the pattern is continuing.  How devastating for those who lost their lives.  That they got up yesterday like any other day and now their lives are forever changed as well.  And as great as my grief is right now and no matter how much I miss Ed, I cannot imagine how those who lost children yesterday can cope.

And on Friday was the Metro-North train derailment.  I've ridden that train many times.  People heading home after a day at work, happy that it was Friday and the weekend was beginning and then their lives were abruptly changed.  Thankfully no one lost their lives.

I think this is one of the things I'm having the most difficulty grasping.  Although I know Ed had cancer and although I knew it would take his life at some point, I remember always telling him how none of us know when our time will end.  That even though he has a terminal cancer diagnosis, any one of us could die without notice on any given day.  Although I said the words, emotionally I was not prepared for it.

But the recent events this past week, this past month, this past year--do remind us how many people have suddenly, without notice, lost their lives or been seriously injured in tragic events.

So is it worse to have a cancer diagnosis and know that your time here on Earth is limited?  That you are being given some kind of timetable whether it is months or years.  Or is it worse to have some someone die suddenly without warning?  Answer--neither.  I am still puzzled by the sudden death of my brother at 51 and then I have Ed's cancer that took his life at 60.  Both losses are great.  Both losses are painful.  Their parting from this world were on different paths, but I can only find comfort that they are together now, in peace, and will be waiting for me when my time comes as well.

And so as I continue to wallow through my own grief, I think of all these other people in the world--and there are so many--who have suffered greater loss and it helps me, even just a little bit, to recognize and be thankful for the time Ed and I had together, for the love we shared and the life we built, and that there was no doubt in his last days that I was there for him and that we were able to say the things we wanted to say.  Do I wish I had more time with him? Absolutely...but my thoughts can turn one of two ways and when I can turn my thoughts to the good things in our lives and the good memories, there's hope.

And so for all those who have been impacted by the recent tragic events, have hope and have prayers for strength.  And for those who were not directly impacted, hug your loved ones and remember "Always leave loved ones with loving words, it may be the last time you see them."

Four Weeks

I was so glad to see the rain yesterday afternoon.  And the cloudy, gray day this morning matches my mood.  I still find it very hard to believe this is now my life.  I continue to make my "to do" lists and I work hard to be productive.

Yesterday, Dan and I planted our vegetables and then I planted some grass seed in bare spots in the yard as the rain was beginning to fall.  I did not get everything done that I had intended.  It amazes me how some things take so long for me to do.  I guess I'm just slower.

I am so thankful for Dan and then I'm sorry that he has to carry such a burden which is me.  I slept well Friday and Saturday night while he was home.  Not that I realized it at the time.  But as the tears flowed last night as I went to bed, it was only then that I realized that this did not happen Friday or Saturday night and the only difference was that Dan was in the house.

I know that it is not healthy that my comfort is so dependent on him.  How could Ed have been so right that I would need Dan so much?  I would have denied it a thousand times a month ago.  I remember the Hospice staff saying one of the things they provide is bereavement support for the family and how important that was.  I certainly didn't think so.  All I cared about was Ed's care and that bereavement support was not something on their list of services that I needed.  How naive was I?

I did cook dinner yesterday for me and Dan.  Yes, I did the "c" word ("cook").  First, though, I had leftover hamburg from Saturday night so I made mini meatloafs for us both to have during the week.  Of course, my mini meatloafs turned out more like supersize meatballs.  I don't know why I made them so small.  If I think about it, I know hamburg shrinks when you cook it.  I guess my judgement is just off.  I then baked some chicken, mashed potatoes, and roasted asparagus for dinner.  The chicken ended up okay although I wanted it browned a bit more than it did.  And this was my second package of chicken.  I had to throw out the first package because I forgot to put it in the frig and it sat in the sink overnight.  I certainly wasn't going to risk making us sick!  But these are just examples of things I do that show me I'm not firing on all cylinders.  I forget things and I'm not quite on top of things as I used to be.

This morning marks 4 weeks since Ed passed and this makes me terribly sad.  How in the world has 4 weeks passed?  I pull out the calendar and recount the weeks again.  Yes, it really has been 4 weeks.  Where have I been for 4 weeks?  What have I been doing?  The photo boards Dan and I prepared for his service still stand in the dining room.  Ed's sneakers still sit in the hallway inside the front door.  And his slippers are still by his recliner.  I'm not ready to put any of them away.  And I know you're all saying "that's fine", "take your time"...and I will.

Time marches on and I hate it.  And the pain and tears still come...not because I want them to nor can I stop them.  I get that feeling in the pit of my stomach that rises up to my chest and my heart aches and then I feel the pain in my throat and then the tears come.  And I realize I have not been this sad or cried this much in my entire life.  If I totalled up all the sadness and all the tears over my 50 years, they could never even come close to the pain and sadness and tears of the past 2 months.  And I know this also means that I've had a very happy life and I should be happy.  It is just so hard.

Not Enough Time in the Day

I know I'm late in posting a message this morning.  I was determined this morning to get bills paid and to write out more thank you notes before I did anything else.  I have to say I am still amazed and touched at the outpouring of love and support from so many people.  It does warm my heart and I hope my appreciation shows through in the thank you notes I send.

Yesterday I thought was a productive day but as I look back, although I was busy all day, it probably didn't amount to all that much.  I learned how to operate the riding mower!  Yeah!!  Of course, then I let Dan use it to mow the lawn while I raked and cleaned up behind the house and then I did the hand mowing.  I don't mind the hand mowing--makes it feel more like exercise.  I then cleaned off both mowers before putting them away.  I'm sure Ed was up there shaking his head at me.

There is so much to do though.  Ed and I had such a balance--he took care of the yard and the outside and I took care of the inside.  A typical Saturday, he would have been mowing while I did shopping or dusted and vacuumed.  Or I might have been outside doing hand trimming or cleaning screens.  So I miss him when I'm doing jobs that used to be his.  But I am so thankful that Dan is here to take care of some of this because I don't know how I would get everything done.

But, hmmm....what else did I do all day?  Oh, that's right...I did have a hair appointment in the morning and I did go to choir/Mass in the afternoon.  Then I hit the grocery store.  I'm amazed at my grocery bill--how can it be so high for one person?  But then I realize that I'm shopping for both me and Dan.  Since he is home every weekend, I tend to get him things to take back with him as well so he is all set for the week too.

I have so much that I want to get done but there's just not enough time in the day.  I want to plant my vegetables, spread mulch, visit friends and family that are in rehab, and also spend time with Dan.  The weekends are just too short and the weekdays are taken up with work.  And I know spending time with people I love is the most important thing--so I should make time to go visit with folks--but I am also feeling overwhelmed by everything that needs to be done around the house.  I just wish I had more time in the day.  And it annoys me that there are things I can't do during the weekend--like return phone calls or pick out Ed's grave marker.  I will just need to learn to block out time during my workweek to do these things.  I'm just not used to that since Ed was always the one who took care of things that had to happen during the workday.

But I'm trying to find a balance.  I am looking forward to next weekend--a three-day weekend.  Maybe this extra time will help me feel more caught up or maybe even have some "down" time?  Time will tell.

For now though I'm going to try to get some things done around the house and make the most of the day.  I hope you do as well. 

Bright Spots

Life is too big.  Death is too big.  Grief is too big.  It all can be overwhelming and it can all weigh you down.  I know it weighs me down right now.  I just don't have the energy or strength to take on the world.  And although that fog I mentioned yesterday makes it difficult to see the glass half full or for me to say "Life is Good" and believe it, there have been moments where lightness shines through the darkness.  So today I take a moment to remember these bright spots, however random and few, in my day.

• The "thinking of you" notecard I received in the mail (yes, snailmail...not email!) with your simple, caring words.  Nothing extravagant, just you letting me know you're still thinking of me and you take the time to write out a card, affix a stamp, and mail it (how old fashioned!).  And you did this last week as well (don't think I didn't notice).
• The neighbor who brings my trash bin up to the house from the edge of the road.  You've done this pretty much every week since Ed was in the hospital.  A small way of helping me and I know you're thinking of me and watching out for me as well.
• The colleague who stops by my office at work and says, "How are you doing?" and means it.  You ask tenderly and with care and not with our typical rushing past each other in the hallway.  Instead you stop, you pause, and you wait for me to respond and then take your cue from me as to whether I want to respond or not.  And then we chat for a few minutes...you don't rush off but you also don't belabor the conversation.  You just know and listen and let me know you care and are there.  And not once does work enter into the conversation.
• Hearing about Nancy's husband (which was not good news or a bright moment), but then hearing that he is already back home less than a week later remind me that small miracles do still happen and that I'm able to recognize them.
• The colleagues from another business unit who sent me a gift basket at work yesterday.  The timing couldn't be better.  As everyone has gone on with their lives, it was nice to know you were still thinking of me and realize that I'm still grieving.  And receiving the package at work on a Friday helped me make it through the rest of the day as I recognize now that I tend to get worn down as the workweek goes on.
• Dan being home again.  The poor guy needs to be able to live his life at his apartment--he has spent way too many weekends at home in the past two months.  But I do love when he walks through the door and fills the emptiness of the house (both with his presence and dirty laundry!).
• Hearing myself laugh out loud.  I know I did it while watching The Office the other night and there was a moment last night when Dan and I were watching something as well on TV.  I couldn't even tell you now what it was, but I did key into the fact that I actually laughed out loud even if it was only for a few seconds.
• For all of you who continue to stop by this blog to see how I'm doing.  I realize it's because you care and are thinking of me.

May you all have a good weekend and may we all find some bright moments in our day.

Weeks Not Days

Weeks, not days...that is now how I'm counting time since Ed went into the hospital, since Ed passed, since Ed's funeral.  And how in the world can it be weeks already since the pain is still as raw as it was when it was days.  I remember I couldn't wait for April to end and May to arrive.  That May would mark some new beginning.  But here we are in mid-May and there has been no new beginnings.  There has just been...

I am thankful for my job because it is tremendously busy and I can make things happen.  I am overwhelmed by all the work on my list of to do's.  But at the end of the day, I can look back and see that I made decisions, moved things forward, accomplished tasks.  But the rest of my life seems to be in a standstill...or is it a spiral?  I'm not quite sure.

The emptiness and loneliness and sadness fills my heart and my home.  I need to make myself notes to be sure I accomplish minor things, like putting away laundry or dumping the trash.  Don't get me wrong.  It's not like I get home and sit in a corner and cry.  But everything seems to be such an effort and everything seems to take much longer than before.  Somehow the clock moves from 7 PM to 8 PM to 10 PM and I don't know what I've done--not much.  It is that "fog" that I hear others refer to.  How can I be in a fog?  I'm a productive person.  I'm a do-er.  Well, I used to be.  But I must be in this fog because time is disappearing--weeks have passed, and I don't know what I've done in this time.  Hours turn into days and days turn into weeks and they all just blend together.  I fear the weeks turning to months and my life will continue to go on without Ed and this fog will continue to envelope me.

When a baby is born, we count their age by days, then weeks, then months, and years.  Those are joyous times and you are amazed at how quickly time passes and that little baby grows and changes each day.  And you smile and find joy in the miracle of birth and life.

When someone passes, we count the time by days, then weeks, then months, and years.  But there is not joy.  There is just sadness that time passes and life goes on.  And you cry and find sadness and loneliness in the mystery of death.

Special Blessed People

I have not seen Dr. Bowers since one of those last days in the hospital.  He came practically every morning to see Ed and, yes, he was Ed's doctor, but there was a caring relationship there as well.  From Day 1, Ed always liked Dr. B.  He also really liked the staff at Dr. B's...from Naomi who took his blood every two weeks, from Roberta ("Roxanne" as Ed would like to call her) at the front desk, and the nurses Shayne and the Karens.  After Ed passed, Dr B. called me and I couldn't take his call at the time because Dan and I were in the process of picking out Ed's casket.  But he left me a voice mail, and I have saved this message since he left caring, thoughtful words.

Anyhow, I wanted to say "thank you" to Dr B. and all of the staff at Hampshire Hematology Oncology.  So I ordered an Edible Arrangement for them and decided I would deliver it personally.  I picked yesterday--a Wednesday, because Wednesday was the day Ed would typically go for treatment (so he could go play golf that afternoon).

I arrived at Cooley just after 9.  It is strange, but I find such a familiarity and comfort as I drive that familiar route and I arrive at the hospital.  As I pull up to the hospital, I follow the same path as when Ed was in 3 North but yesteray morning I park in the lot for Oncology.  The same lot Ed parked in every 2 weeks for 3 years.  I did not go to every one of Ed's appointments--it wasn't necessary.  But I did go when he was getting the results of his CT scan.  We frequently drove separately so I could leave once he was situated in the infusion room.

As I walked in, I walked through the Healing Garden.  The same Healing Garden where I would sit on the bench in the warm sun while I waited for Ed.  These were the times when I would arrive from work and surprise him to join him for his appointment.  The same Healing Garden I looked down upon when Ed was in the CCU and I would stand in the windowed connector hallway to make phone calls.  Yesterday, I looked up and noticed this windowed hallway...something I never really noticed before.

I waited a few minutes to see Dr. Bowers.  While waiting, Augie (the therapy dog) came slowly down the hall.  Now, Augie will occasionally make his rounds to see everyone.  He slowly walks around, stops for a pat on the head, and keeps moving.  He has never been one to hang out with a particular person and he usually finds a place at the end of the hall or under a waiting room chair to lie down.

Yesterday morning, Augie headed up the hall towards me.  Now I fully expected him to either walk right past me or simply stop, pause, and then keep moving.  He passed another patient in the hall who gave the usual "Hi Augie", and Augie kept walking (typical).  He paused at my feet and let me pet him.  Since I didn't have any kind of treat for him, I expected him to keep moving.  But instead, he stayed and let me pet him for quite a while.  And then he did the totally unexpected and laid down at my feet.  Of course, that brought tears to my eyes.  I'm not sure what Augie knew, but he knew something was different and he stayed with me, laying at my feet, until Dr. Bowers arrived.

It was good to see Dr. Bowers and we hugged a few times and chatted for a few minutes.  He is such a caring man.  And I saw Shayne and Karen--more hugs.  Such a wonderful group of people who Ed cared for and who cared for Ed--both physically and emotionally.  I don't know how they do what they do everyday.  I said I would stay in touch and I truly hope I do.  They are truly blessed, special people and I am thankful Ed had them during his treatment and that I have them still now to help me as well.

An old picture of Augie

 

The Healing Garden

The bench I sat on several times while waiting for Ed.

Secrets

I sit here this morning and wonder what to write.  My feelings are blank this morning.  There's that pit in my stomach and the general sadness and emptiness that surrounds me.  I see the Robins in the bush out front where I found another nest, but it does not make me smile this morning.  There is a clear blue sky with the sun peeking through the trees but it doesn't lift my spirits this morning.  I slept good last night but I did not wake up refreshed.  And I am puzzled how my mood can be what it is with what feels like little control by me.

I am also torn this morning because I have been keeping a secret from all of you and I know if I share it, it will help with the heaviness in my heart.  But I've hesitated to share because it's about someone else and I want to respect their privacy.  But I realize in doing so, I am not truly sharing my feelings or my journey and whether I want to admit it or not, this secret is part of my sad moments.

I think earlier I did ask for prayers for Ed's brother Larry.  Larry is the youngest of the three of them-there's Ed, Mary, and then Larry who is just 55.  Last week Larry was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer.  This all has been happening since Ed's funeral.  In fact, the day of Ed's wake, Larry had an ultrasound followed by a CT scan that Monday.  He was waiting for an appointment for a biopsy when his sister Mary took him to the ER and they found he had blood clots in his legs.  He is currently in Baystate and has had procedures to insert an IVC filter and then a port.

Dan and I went to see him on Saturday and the familiarity of the hospital and some of Larry's mannerisms that were so similar to Ed's that they brought me back to the time Ed was in the hospital.  And my instinct was to take charge--to analyze his medical condition, to monitor his pain levels, to hold his hand.  But that is not my role here.  Instead, all I can do is be there for him and his sister.  For I am not Larry's primary caregiver or advocate.  His feelings and struggles and decisions are his and not mine to relieve, to try to fix, to weigh in on... Instead, I can just be and let him and Mary know they are in my thoughts and prayers each day and, when they need it, to answer questions based on my personal experience and Ed's journey.   And although I want to keep Ed with me, to watch over me, I instead ask him to watch over them. For we've made this journey and there's nothing I can do to make it any easier for them.

So on this day, please keep Larry and Mary in your prayers.

Moving Sideways

I did a good job at managing my day yesterday.  I want to be able to do everything.  To go to work everyday and meet all my commitments at night and take care of the house and the yard and pretend that I am okay and I'm superwoman.  But what I learned from last week is that I can't do everything and I'm not superwoman--at least not yet.  And when I try to do it all, it's too much.  So I went to work yesterday, but was a little late because there were errands I had to run beforehand.  And I didn't go to choir because I'm not ready to be out at night and not be home until late.  And on one hand, I want to do these things, but I know I need to pace myself.  And I felt better last night.

A woman I work with shared with me yesterday that she lost her husband 7 years ago to cancer and she said the first year was blur.  She moved through life and went to work, but there was a fog that surrounded her for that first year.  Two things I took away from this--(1) I immediately have a strong connection to those who have lost a spouse because you understand the depth of grief and (2) I need to cut myself some slack.

I have always been a "glass half-full" kind of person and I truly believed the "Life is Good" motto.  I used to be able to find the good in situations or if I couldn't, give me a little time and I will get there.  Even when Ed was in the hospital, I learned to be thankful for our time together and what a gift that was.  And since Ed's passing, I know I'm surrounded by loving friends and family and many who care about me.  But I do feel as though I am in a fog.  I move through the day and accomplish tasks and there are moments of happiness, but I can't say "Life is Good" and I struggle to see the blessings of each new day.  Yes, I find comfort in the blue sky, the growth of spring around me, the birds at the feeder, the smell of flowers....but could I tell you "Life is Good" and believe it?  Not right now.  Maybe someday though.

I want to learn to live with my grief and move forward.  I look at the calendar and it's been three weeks since Ed passed and I wonder how long does this process take.  After three weeks, there are days that are harder, not easier.  And how can that be.  I received this newsletter from the VNA Hospice group and in it there's an article that talks about how we fear that in the ebb and flow of grief, we somehow remain in place (so true) and we wonder if we'll ever feel better (true).  But the problem is that grief is not a linear process.  We do not slowly get better.  We don't move forward--but instead, like a crab, we move sideways!  And that is so true.  And so each day, I move, maybe not forward, but sideways--and that's okay.

A "Nice" Day

Yesterday was a nice day but I realize I strain the use of the word "nice".  Yes, I was truly blessed by having Dan home and we shared the day both celebrating Mother's Day and his birthday.  And we did okay for the most part.  We exchanged cards and gifts in the morning.  Later in the day we went to my mother's and we hung out together and ordered Chinese takeout for dinner.  It was "nice".  And as expected, I missed Ed. We used to joke that I wasn't his mother, but he still always got me thoughtful gifts with a special card expressing his love.  He always took advantage of holidays or special events to spoil me.  And it wasn't, and didn't have to be, anything extravagant.  A bag of chocolates to stash in my desk drawer at work or a flowreing hanging basket for outside.  It was simple things, the little things that I liked that and that he knew better than anyone else.

As I realize I was feeling this way, I'm sure Dan had these same thoughts as well although he didn't express them.  When Dan was younger, I always knew the perfect gift to get him for his birthday.  As he got older, though, Ed became the one who knew better whether it was something for his car, for playing golf, or for his apartment.

At the end of the day, I think both Dan and I did okay and I know we are both very thankful to have each other since the day would have been much harder otherwise.

Yesterday morning, we did get dirt for our vegetable bed and to fill/level off above our septic tank.  I was so excited.  I got dirt for Mother's Day!!

In the afternoon, we went to my mother's to celebrate with her, Momma Jeanne, and my sisters and their kids. Of course I got angry at myself because I didn't organize things very well especially since it was my idea to get together.  Not that anyone really cared, but it bothered me that I neglected to bring wine to share or the menu to order from.   And it bothered me because these are things Ed would think of and also because I used to be right on top of things and I'm not anymore and it frustrates me.  And that was when the tears came last night because even the smallest things require extra effort and thought and it can just be overwhelming.

And I missed my brother yesterday as well.  Not that he would have hung out with us on the deck but he would have come up to get some food and share a few words or laughs and would have just been present.  And our family picture that we took at Thanksgiving and that Dan printed and framed for Christmas hangs in the dining room and I looked at that picture yesterday and missed both Ed and Mike.  I sure everyone did.  But family and friends are good and being together was "nice".

I've posted this picture before, but it's worth repeating...

Happy Mother's Day & Happy Birthday Dan

Today we not only celebrate Mother's Day, but more importantly, it's Dan's birthday!  Wow, 25 years old!  And both his father and I couldn't be more proud of him.  He was always the perfect child growing up (seriously, he was!).  And we are extra proud of what he's accomplished in the last few years--earning his Masters of Architecture, landing a job in his field, and having his own apartment.  He is truly a fine, young man and I know Ed found peace knowing he was settled in and doing fine.  And I am so blessed that we have a relationship where I can count on him and know he'll be there when I need him.

In celebration of Dan's birthday, we spent time together yesterday and went shopping to get part of his birthday present.  We then had a nice dinner at Carabba's.  After we got home, we watched the movie "The Guilt Trip"--very appropriate for the combination Mother's Day and Dan's birthday.  We laughed very hard and would recommend it for any mother/son who have a close relationship.

Today we'll see family to celebrate both Mother's Day and Dan's birthday.  The weekends are way too short, but I'll enjoy every minute of it.

May you have a wonderful Mother's Day and Happy 25th Birthday, Dan!  Love you lots!!

Lessons Learned

This morning is a good morning....and last night was a good night and I'm happy because this week was really tough.

I'm not sure why it was a tough week, although my wise mother tells me it's because I was exhausted.  I didn't feel exhausted physically, but my emotions were a mess for sure.  Yesterday I was just in a funk and teary as I drove to work and teary when people asked "how are you doing?" and crying when I'm on the phone with UNUM and they're asking questions about Ed.  Lesson learned and I will try to slow down a bit and not try to do everything.  This is new to me.  I'm used to being able to do everything.  Well, everything that I was responsible for.  I realize now that "everything" also encompasses those things Ed was responsible for as well.  And although it's not visible on the outside, I guess my grief and sadness does sap some level of energy from me.

I am proud of the fact that I was good and didn't work late last night.  Part of the reason was because I wanted to avoid any of the traffic from the UMass Commencement.  Whatever the reason, it was good to be home at a reasonable hour and I was able to do things to feel positive and productive.  Another lesson learned.

I did think about just sitting on the back deck, having a glass of wine and doing nothing.  But I decided to save my "do nothing" for Sunday.  Instead, I got it into my head to do some mowing.  It needed to be done and I knew more rain was predicted. Besides, even weeds look better when mowed.

So I was quite pleased with myself with getting the push mower out and then checking/adding oil and gas.  (We do have a riding mower, but Dan will need to teach me how to use that first.)  The hardest thing was figuring out how to start the darn thing because not only did it have a pull cord (which I know how to use), but it also had a key start (which I wasn't sure how that played into things).  And since I haven't a clue where the owner's manual was, I used my brain and Googled for an owner's manual.  Gotta love Google!

I did thank Ed several times.  First, that he got rid of any extra push mowers that he had so there was only one and so there was no question that I had the "right" one; that there was both oil and gas available (something I just assumed...wouldn't I have been disappointed if there wasn't); that the mower started after a few pulls (the key start really didn't work); and then again for buying a "propelled' mower--that made this real easy!  And now my mowed weeds look so much better!

I then putzed around cleaning up around the house, doing some dusting and vacuuming while awaiting Dan's return home.  It was good to have him home again and we had some dinner and sat and chatted.  It's amazing to me how easy our conversations are face-to-face, but talking on the phone is just not as natural.  I fell asleep while relaxing in the living room with Dan.  When I finally went to bed, I slept well.  I only woke once during the night when I heard water running (it was the combination of the rain outside and our water filter running) but then I went back to sleep until 8 AM!  I probably could have continued sleeping but I didn't want to waste my day.  I've got things to do so that Dan and I can have some downtime this evening and tomorrow.

I'm excited for tomorrow since it is not only Mother's Day but it's also Dan's 25th birthday!  So I'm anticipating a good weekend!  And I'll be sure to get plenty of rest and not overdo it!

Tiring Week

It's Friday and I've (almost) made it through the week. It's been a long, busy, tiring week and I'm looking forward to maybe sleeping in tomorrow (watch me wake up at 5:30).  Last night after work I went to one of my committee meetings.  I was struggling trying to decide if I could/should go and I did it which was a major accomplishment because I also worked late.  The first week of the month has typically been a busy week and this week was no exception, it's just that it took so much more out of me.

I realize I need to pace myself.  Time home after work is important and I need to find a routine for having dinner, getting small things done around the house, and then just finding time to relax.  Working late and then rushing to an evening event and not getting home until 9 or 10 and then not getting to bed until 11:30 or so is too exhausting.  So that will be my goal for next week.

I did have a nice lunch out yesterday with a colleague and friend. That was time well spent and my leftover lunch was also my dinner (bonus!)!

Last night I called Ed's cell phone just so I could hear his voice on his voicemail.  On one hand, how crazy is that?  On another, how lucky I am to even have this very short recording of his voice.  I wish I had more.

And once again, last night, was another night of tears and crying.  I don't get it.  I mean, I do get that I miss Ed and grieve the loss of him, but the tears are irrational and they just come and I can't control them.  During the daylight hours, I can more easily turn my thoughts to the positive and all that Ed and I shared and that I'm lucky to have had. But when the darkness of night comes and the quiet of evening envelopes me, the silence is deafening and my thoughts are consumed by this darkness and I can't control my sadness, my tears, and my longing for Ed.  And as quickly as this sneaks up on me, my thoughts will suddenly settle, and I will begin to rest and fall asleep.  I don't like this pattern and I want it to end, but then again, when it does, I'm sure I'll be sad because it will be a sign that I am adjusting to life without Ed.

As I finish writing today's entry, I'm looking out the window and I'm smiling because the female cardinal is at the feeder, the bluebirds are flying back and forth to their birdhouse, and there are five (yes, 5!) bright yellow goldfinches as well. Seeing these beautiful birds make me smile because Ed loved attracting these birds. What a simple and beautiful gift from God for me to enjoy.

Is anyone out there?

Does anyone read this blog anymore?  I know so many followed this while Ed was in the hospital.  It was a way for me to keep you all posted on his status via a single source.  It eliminated the need to send individual emails or make personal phone calls or you all wondering how he was doing.  It was also helpful to me.  A way to keep track of what was occurring day to day because the days blurred together.  It was, and continues to be, an outlet for me.

Ed passed over two weeks ago and tomorrow will mark two weeks since we laid him to rest.  Once again I wonder what two weeks means.  It seems like yesterday, while at the same time it feels like so long ago.  As I've said before, it's just a marker of time.  That time continues to march on whether I like it or not.

So as I sit here this morning, I wonder if anyone is still out there reading this blog.  Does it matter?  In reality, probably not.  Because I'm no longer writing to keep you posted on Ed's status.  I guess I'm writing to keep you posted on my status.  How am I doing on this crappy journey?  How is Dan doing?  I obviously still find it cathartic to share with you, whoever you might be out there in the cyberworld, because I continue to write. And with that, here's my update for today.

Last night was a semi-better evening.  I had some plans after work and I decided instead to just come home.  The previous two evenings had been taxing on me and although I want to "do it all" I cut myself some slack last night.  And it did make a difference in my evening.  Well, it was that or the fact that I did all my crying while on the phone with my mother.  Either way, I was able to sleep better last night and I'm thankful for that.

Dan played co-ed softball last night with a high school classmate that he reconnected with at Ed's funeral (one of the good things that happened on that sad day).  Dan always loved playing baseball so it warmed my heart to hear he found this to do and that, according to him, his teammates are a fun group.  I'm hoping he also gets a chance to go golfing as well this summer because he definitely has Ed's love for this sport as well.

Ed's brother Larry is still in the hosptial and so please continue to keep him and his sister Mary in your prayers as they try to identify the root cause of his medical issues.  We have our fears of what it might be, but I try to remain positive and hope and pray for the best at this time.

And, if you're so inclined, click the little box below to let me know you read this and that you're out there.  Knowing you're there, even if I don't know you personally, warms my heart.

Until tomorrow...

Not as Strong as You Think

What is it about nighttime?  Evenings are much more difficult than they were days ago and last night was no exception.  Maybe it's the quiet of the house, the quiet of the darkness, the loneliness.  Not that I don't miss Ed and mourn him during the daylight hours, but I think there is more stimuli around to distract my thoughts.  But as I head to bed, my thoughts turn only to the loss of Ed, the time lost, what will not be, the things I wish I could change.  And I am not strong enough to change these thoughts to focus on the good things we shared and the memories that make me smile.

Last night I went to parish council and then went out with friends afterwards--a routine we've shared for many, many years.  And they were happy to see me and it was good to be among them and we had some good laughs.  It was during the drive home, the same drive I've taken home after choir or council or communications for many years.  But what was different this week is that Ed would not be sitting in his recliner, watching TV, waiting for me.  For he always waited for me to get home before he headed to bed and he was always there as I walked through the door to hear about my evening, to be sure I was home safe.

I like to pretend I'm strong.  So many people say how strong I am.  And maybe on the exterior and out in public I am.  But Ed knew me best and he knew my weakest moments and my greatest fears.  And he would support me and help me through them.  And I cry because I miss this and I'm afraid for when those moments come, like these past two nights, and he isn't here to lift me up.  I know--everyone says he's still with me and I know I will talk to him and share my fears with him.  But he won't be here to tell me what I need to hear.  To comfort me, to hold me, to reassure me and build me back up.  And so as strong as I pretend to be, I'm afraid and I don't want others to see my weak side--that was private, that was for Ed to see alone.

Unfortunately, though, there are many woman of example surrounding me.  Woman who have lost spouses or children and who have somehow marched on.  Who found that inner strength to get up each morning, to wash their face, to comb their hair, and to face the world.  And I know, way down deep inside, that this is what I will continue to do.  Day by day.  But I so wish those painful evenings would go away.  But I so love Ed and I so miss him and his presence and I mourn what will not be and the time lost.

For just one more day, for just one more minute to hold each other...but I can't ask for that because that would be selfish. For I was blessed to have final time with Ed.  Time that so many others may not have with their loved ones.  The days I spent by his side where I could tell him and show him how much I love him.  And during my stronger moments, I am grateful for this.  It's just that this is no one of my stronger moments.

I guess Ed was right when he told Dan that although I am strong this would be really hard on me and so Dan needed to be there to take care of me.  Ed always knew me best...better than I even knew myself at times.

Death Is Nothing At All

I am tired this morning.  Yesterday was a long day.

Work was good, I have FINALLY caught up on email!!  What an accomplishment!  Of course, we won't talk about what has probably accumulated since 5 PM last night.  But what a great feeling.  And, unfortunately for others, I'm beginning to generate emails--starting to take action and follow-up on things.  In other words, starting to be productive!  People at work, though, are still so kind and the random kind words or hugs are very sweet and heartfelt.

Although it wasn't planned, I ended up going to the rectory to have dinner with Fr. Vern last night.  What a treat that was!  His friend Dennis was supposed to be there but was delayed.  So the two of us had a relaxing evening, chatting and then enjoying the great meal he cooked.  Anyone who knows Fr. Vern, knows he loves to cook and does a great job.  We talked about cooking for one--not sure I could ever put the time into preparing a meal like he did (or that Ed did).  Some things didn't take too much time or effort (that yummy asparagus), but the Vichyssoise certainly did.  Of course, the meal was not good for my waistline!

After dinner, since I was right there (was it a ploy by Fr. Vern?), I went to choir rehearsal.  It was great to see everyone.  My choir family has been so kind, thoughtful, and supportive with both my brother's passing and Ed's.  Each step back into my routine is a step forward which is both good and bad--good because I need to; bad (or is "sad" a better word to use) because it's a reminder that I'm moving ahead without Ed.

I also made an appointment yesterday for a colonoscopy.  I turned 50 back in September and so my doctor ordered it.  It is well known that I am awful about calling and making appointments.  The doctor's office had called the house a couple times to schedule the appointment but since I wasn't home it was always on me to return the call.  And Ed kept nagging me to make the appointment and you would think with Ed having colon cancer I wouldn't keep dragging my feet.  Regardless, I finally pulled out the reminder note, in Ed's handwriting, and scheduled the appointment and I know that pleased Ed.  It saddens me, though, that Ed is not here to be with me for the prep or to take me to the appointment because that is his job, just like I took him.  My own fault, though.  I could have, and should have, scheduled this sooner.

So I got home late last night.  Then had to do the normal things like go through mail, wash my lunch containers, and then had to post some documents to the church Web site.  So I didn't get to sleep until after 11.  As usual, I woke up again within the first hour.  I did not wake up at 2 PM, but closer to 3 PM and then slept restlessly after that.  I know my dreams included Ed but I don't recall the dreams themselves.

The hurt was still there last night as I headed to bed, but no irrational tears.  I received a card yesterday that had the following poem enclosed which touched my heart and so I wanted to share it.

Death is Nothing At All

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me.  Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere.  Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

Funeral Death Poem by Henry Scott Holland ~ 1847-1918
Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral ~ London, UK

What to Write About...

Hmmm....what to write about this morning?  I have mixed feelings.

I could write about moments yesterday that made me smile.  For instance, when I was upstairs ironing Dan's dress shirts and I could hear him in the kitchen making dinner.  The familiar sound and routine reminded me of Ed.  Or sitting down to dinner with Dan--we so enjoy each other's company and we talked and laughed about what Ed would have commented on or done differently.

I could write about the bonehead move I made that resulted in a scrapped up leg, knee and elbow but I won't (since it was a bonehead move) but while treating my minor wounds, the slight pain made me think of Ed and the pain that he lived with so often and in his final days and how I cannot fathom what he was dealing with and holding in for so long.  And so I'm reminded to be thankful that he is no longer in pain.

I could write about the Ed's brother who was admitted to the hospital this weekend and I can't believe we are being dealt another health issue.  But I won't because I want to respect his privacy at this time.  But I do at least mention this because I want to ask you to keep him and his sister Mary in your prayers.  And I know Ed is watching over me and Dan, but yesterday I asked him to watch over his brother instead.

Or I could write about how, once again, I was in a ball of tears last night as I got ready for bed.  I could not tell you what triggered it--I think walking up the stairs to bed.  And I just began to totally miss Ed and became irrational and guilty about the times I lost patience with him or got angry with him and did he know how much I truly loved him.  And, yes, the rationale side of me knows that Ed knew how much we loved each other.  And, yes, the rationale side of knows that during 31 years together, there are moments you fight or lose patience or get angry.  But at 11:30 at night, you're not always rationale.  Dan was still awake so I was able to call him and just cry and poor Dan learned that all I needed in this situation was for him to listen and say the things I already knew.  I didn't need him to fix it.  I didn't need him to tell me I was wrong.  I just needed him to remind me what I already knew deep down inside, but my irrational mind was causing me to question it.  I am so blessed to have him in my life.

This week is typically a busy week for me.  There's something on the calendar every night and so my goal is to attempt to do some, most, or all of these things.  We'll see though.  I worry about finding the balance between work, home, and other activities.  I no longer have Ed to take care of all the little details and so making sure I manage my time effectively is important.  I also know making that first step back is difficult.  Greeting and seeing people, although I know they care and want to support me, can sometimes be difficult.  But I know the sooner I do it, the sooner it will be done.  Kind of like pulling that bandaid off.  It hurts more, the more slowly you go.

And on that note, I need to get ready for work.  A five-day workweek.  Am I ready for it?  We'll find out.  The good news is with some my extracurricular activities this week, I will have no choice but to be sure to leave the office at a reasonable hour.  Wish me luck...

Busy Day

There’s a robin that has nested in the bush outside the kitchen window. This has been the case for the past several years and I’m so happy to see her back again. In previous years, Ed would always trim the branches facing the house so we could watch her through the kitchen window. This year, she’s further to the right so no amount of pruning will enable me to watch from inside. But I find comfort that she is back again, in that old familiar bush, and soon baby robins will be arriving.

I bought a new hose yesterday. Some of you have heard this story. Last fall I wanted to buy a new hose because it was leaking, but instead Ed fixed the hose we had.  When I went to use it last week, it was leaking again and the tears came as I became frustrated with the hose and that Ed wasn't here to fix it and that he never showed me how to fix it.  So yesterday, I bought the new hose.

Well, I should have just replaced the hose and left it at that.  But instead I decided to clean the hose reel/storage box that we have.  Big mistake.  There's this small hose that connects the box to the faucet.  First, trying to disconnect that was a chore.  But I did it and went off and cleaned the box and then went to reconnect it.  Reconnecting it was as difficult as disconnecting it (I know I'm missing something--it shouldn't be that hard, but regardless...).  I got everything hooked up and turned it on and now the connecting hose is leaking all over the place!  I tried all kinds of things to fix it and heard my brother say "you need to be smarter than the thing you're working with" and so do you know what I ended up doing? Replacing the end on the connecting hose.   I took the end off the old hose that Ed had repaired, saw how it was done, and did the same thing to the connecting hose.  There's still a little bit of a leak (I think from the box not the hose), but bottom line--I repaired the damn connecting hose.  Which basically means I really didn't need a new hose, I was capable of just fixing the old one (the connecting hose wasn't leaking until I touched it)!  Dan and I laugh though because replacing that stupid hose, which should have taken 10 mins, took me hours instead!  I'm sure Ed is looking down laughing and just shaking his head!  But I did it and learned more than I wanted!

Of course while all this was going on, Dan took care of building what will be my vegetable bed.  Tim and Cathy met us at Home Depot and we consulted with Tim on the right wood to buy and reviewed with him how Dan planned to construct it.  Remember Dan is the architect so he can design it, but Tim has the experience on what is realistic in terms of actual construction. Hearing the familiar sound of the saw reminded me of Ed.  I am so pleased with the end result and so proud of Dan.

Our final task of the day was finding the cover to the septic tank.  It took us a bit because all we had was knowing where the pipe came out of the house and my very vague memory.  What a great moment though when we hit the tank!  From there we used Dan's logic to help us find the cover...he really is smart!  And yes I was annoyed that Ed had not educated me on this at anytime over the past three years. That would have been much easier.  But I'm also proud that Dan and I did it and, in fact, we did a lot yesterday.  We were both pretty exhausted (and a little sore) when evening came.

Oh, and a few cards came in the mail yesterday...

My new raised bed.  Just need the loam now.

No Tears and No Cards

Friday was another day of my new "normal".  Work continues to be a good routine and distraction.  I am feeling like I'm getting semi-back up to speed.  Everyone has been great but I know I'm not fully back yet.  At some level I fear the moment when the work becomes too much and folks will no longer cut me any slack.  Will I handle it like I used to or will I burst into tears?  I guess only time will tell.

My sister Theresa dropped off a nice dinner for me and Dan last night--chicken francaise and green beans.  Dan didn't get home until after 8:30 but I waited for him so we could eat dinner together.  She also gave me this special necklace for wearing Ed's wedding band.  I've been wearing his ring on my right ring finger with my anniversary diamond for over a month now and taking it off makes my finger feel light/empty.  So we're assessing the necklace to see if I like the weight on my neck.  It was very thoughtful of her.

As I look back on Friday, there are two things that stick out for me though.  The first is that I realize I didn't cry at all yesterday.  On one hand I realize this is a good thing.  On the other, I feel a sense of guilt because Ed deserves my tears and without them I feel like I'm doing him some sense of injustice.  Of course, I realize that the tears usually come at night, when I'm home alone.  But last night I had Dan here and he filled that void and provided me with company and warmth such that I fell asleep in front of the TV like I used to do when Ed was here.

Although there weren't tears, there were certainly moments of sadness.  One that hit me by surprise is when I picked up the mail and there were no cards.  People have been so sweet and generous and there have been cards throughout the past month--when Ed was in the hospital and then every day since he passed.  Friday was the first day without any cards in the mail and it was just a sign that things are returning to normal for everyone.  But this normal is without Ed and that is sad.

I know, I know...the rational side of me does recognize that there are only so many cards you can get and that they won't continue infinitely and I appreciate all those that have been sent.  But it is just one of those moments and those of you who have been through this before I know understand what I'm saying even though it doesn't make logical sense.  But I don't have to make logical sense, do I?  I think I get a bye on that lately!

So today we begin the weekend and Dan is home and we have a few things on our list to do.  Dan is planning to build me a gardening bed.  This is something Ed and I had talked about last year.  Ed used to keep a large garden but we stopped that a couple years back.  We just couldn't keep up with it, the trees were now blocking too much of the sun, and the groundhog kept eating everything.  So for the past couple years we resorted to patio tomatoes which was all I really needed.  But last year we talked about a small raised bed and Dan wants to build this for me.  So I'll be sure to let you know how that turns out!

And speaking of all those cards we've received, I do need to work on writing thank you's.  Because I do want to thank all of you who have been so kind and caring during this difficult time.

Oh, and before I forget, my thankful thought for today: I am thankful for Dan.  I know this is a given but without him this would be so much more difficult.  He is me and Ed combined...our legacy and our love and we couldn't be more proud of him and I smile at the 25 years the three of us shared together.  The day before Ed passed, he told Dan he needed to take care of me (even though he knew I was strong).  And Dan has become my rock and at times I'm sad because I don't want to burden him with this responsibility.  But we lean on each other and together we keep Ed's memory alive every day.  I love you Dan and you know your father is so proud of you and I am too.