I am in the middle of time—two weeks ago was Rob's Birthday and in two weeks is the Second Anniversary of his Death. Tears flow more frequently once again. I encounter memories wherever I turn. And I am seeing my gradual evolution.
Off to the feed and grain store (doesn't everyone?) and then go check out a different supermarket than the one on my usual route. Plug address into Celeste (my GPS) and I am off. Find myself marveling that I am on roads I do not believe I have ever driven on. I am on an adventure in my own backyard! In the past I would have gotten anxious about not knowing where I was, exactly. But now it does not seem to matter.
So I fly high and then hit turbulence. I am not familiar with this new supermarket and therefore don't know the isles and shelves to avoid. Ever think about what a mind (yes mind) field supermarkets become after your husband dies? Items you picked up just for him. Items he asked for. Items that were all he could eat. Numerous small explosions.
Plotting my own back roads route for my way home, I have the thought, "I can take the route home from the hospital." Home from the hospital offers up overwhelming images of that last trip almost exactly two years ago. Do all my back roads only lead from or to the hospital?
I understand that this is an emotionally charged time. And I am trying to keep an awareness of what is the same, what is different—what are memories. One change I want to acknowledge is that I have taken off my wedding band. I did not think I would ever do this. But I have a new ring to wear on my left hand now. A cigar band style ring with, of course, a horse on it. I am horse. Was going to say that I am becoming horse, but that is so passé . I am horse.
Maybe that is part of the ongoing transformation. Another difference is that I am slowly migrating back to using my maiden name. It feels right in the acknowledgement of all that has changed and the who am I this time. This middle of time space is turning into a place of experimentation. Trying different things on for size. Seeing what fits.
It is almost Rosh Hashanah. And that was when "we" went into the hospital for the last time. In 2013 Rosh Hashana fell on September 5th. I think of the first week as letting the reality sink in and the rush of visitors. Week Two was a transition week as the inevitability of the reality sank in. And Week Three was the end. We had 21 days.
One moment I am fearless flying to new heights and the next I am crashing and burning...ah welcome back Roller Coaster. But the ride is not as harrowing as in the past. It has leveled out and the drops do not last that long, and are no where as intense. The Roller Coaster is now just a reminder.
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Life After Death
I never thought I would be saying this, but there is indeed life after death....life for me after the death of my husband. What better metaphor than my truck and now new horse trailer. I am going places I have never been. I am doing things I have never done. I am experiencing life as I have never before.
I am comfortable with "being only one". I do not have to check with anyone. I make my own decisions. A friend calls at 5:30 to ask if I want to go to dinner. When? and where? Another friend invites me to go camping with her. I have not camped in I can't remember how many years. But why not? There is nothing holding me back from saying yes. And yes I do go camping.
This does not mean I don't miss Rob. Or that I don't cry. It does not mean that I don't have times when everything seems totally overwhelming. It simply means that I am embracing the new path I am on. I am well aware that my journey to find "Who am I this time" is very much a work in progress. And I am open to exploring and searching and seeing what comes my way.
I am experiencing a huge paradigm shift. It is evolving and revealing itself bit by bit. Focusing moment by moment is all I can do.
I am comfortable with "being only one". I do not have to check with anyone. I make my own decisions. A friend calls at 5:30 to ask if I want to go to dinner. When? and where? Another friend invites me to go camping with her. I have not camped in I can't remember how many years. But why not? There is nothing holding me back from saying yes. And yes I do go camping.
This does not mean I don't miss Rob. Or that I don't cry. It does not mean that I don't have times when everything seems totally overwhelming. It simply means that I am embracing the new path I am on. I am well aware that my journey to find "Who am I this time" is very much a work in progress. And I am open to exploring and searching and seeing what comes my way.
I am experiencing a huge paradigm shift. It is evolving and revealing itself bit by bit. Focusing moment by moment is all I can do.
Saturday, March 7, 2015
What do I do with a lecture on Grief?
I was recently invited to a lecture on Images of Grief and Healing, "the ways in which art making is an instrumental tool in helping mourners heal and recalibrate one's life." It felt like something I should attend.
And therein lies my dilemma—the "should". I felt myself resisting. I was pleased my friend invited me. I am open to new things. Like to go places. But—ah there it is, the but. So now I have resistance, a should, and a but. Not a good combination. Red flags waving at me. I acknowledge them. So what is going on?
I struggle internally. Is grief something that I will carry with me all my life? Of course. But do I have to keep examining it? Exposing myself to other people's interpretations? Delve deeper into other's meaning? Keep reading books on grief, go to lectures on grief, visit art exhibits on grief.
Have I not had my own personal exploration of grief going on for longer than I care to count? Do I need an immersion course? There it is—the question I have been searching for—do I need to continue to immerse myself in grief?
My answer is no. My grief is a part of me. I feel like the fog of the last year has lifted. I am striking out on my own path. There are guide posts that Rob has left for me, but I am making this new journey my own. It is indeed time to move forward without a focus on grief. It is okay to turn down the invitation.
And therein lies my dilemma—the "should". I felt myself resisting. I was pleased my friend invited me. I am open to new things. Like to go places. But—ah there it is, the but. So now I have resistance, a should, and a but. Not a good combination. Red flags waving at me. I acknowledge them. So what is going on?
I struggle internally. Is grief something that I will carry with me all my life? Of course. But do I have to keep examining it? Exposing myself to other people's interpretations? Delve deeper into other's meaning? Keep reading books on grief, go to lectures on grief, visit art exhibits on grief.
Have I not had my own personal exploration of grief going on for longer than I care to count? Do I need an immersion course? There it is—the question I have been searching for—do I need to continue to immerse myself in grief?
My answer is no. My grief is a part of me. I feel like the fog of the last year has lifted. I am striking out on my own path. There are guide posts that Rob has left for me, but I am making this new journey my own. It is indeed time to move forward without a focus on grief. It is okay to turn down the invitation.
Friday, February 13, 2015
I am on my own on my birthday
I awoke this morning, sniffed the air and had the unpleasant thought that the temperature in the house was colder than normal. Got out of bed and ran to the thermostat which read 54 degrees. It was 5 degrees outside, so 50 degrees higher was a good thing. But not a normal thing. Furnace was off. It had shut down two nights ago and there in lies this story.
Today is my birthday. Notice the small b. Not Birthday, just birthday. Don't feel like I have to do anything about it except acknowledge it to myself. There will be no cards on the dining room table when I have breakfast. No birthday kiss. No one here to say Happy Birthday out loud.
But strangely that feels okay. I'm getting used to this being on my own thing. It is not alone, and it is not loneliness. It is being on my own. And what better day to embrace it than on my birthday.
Two nights ago the circuit breaker for the furnace had flipped. After checking the thermostat this morning, I went out to the garage and checked the circuit breaker. Yup it had blown, I reset it. And then called the oil company. The service man showed up quickly and explained to me all the things that could be wrong. I left him to figure it out while I went about my usual morning activities.
During the day I got thinking about what present I could get myself. And realized I had gotten a terrific present last weekend. Huey—my new to me 2005 Dodge Durango truck/SUV. The truck part of my truck and horse trailer dream. Manifested the truck part. Trailer next. Oh and Huey stands for humongous vehicle ; -)
On my own I researched, decided what was important, searched, winnowed down, talked to used car salespeople, selected what I thought was the perfect vehicle and went for a test drive in a town 1-1/2 hours away. I took the truck to a Dodge dealer for a safety inspection, negotiated with the selling salesperson and drove said truck home.
I brought it in for its inspection sticker locally and the dealer found a gas leak. I had to deal with that, call the guy I bought the truck from, re-negotiate with him to cover the cost and then get back to dealer to approve its repair.
Through all of these events not once did I think, I wish I could run this by Robert. And to add to my challenges, my neighbor who had been snow blowing my driveway had his wife suggest to me that I pay someone to plow it. In the middle of one of our ongoing snow storms. We've had over 60" of snow in 3 weeks. After talking with some of my other neighbors I realized I could no longer depend on the kindness of others. And embracing my "inner independent cowgirl" I tackled our snow blower.
Rob had showed me numerous times how to start and operate it. I had always resisted. There was no avoiding it any longer. Went out and bought a new gas "can". Filled it up with gas. I found I've been saying to people, "I've never done this before" quite a lot. And yet I keep going.
While I was worried about operating the snow blower, the new gas can turned out to be the challenge. There were all sorts of absurd safety features. No longer a can with top and spout. I struggled with the gas contraption, eventually figuring out how to get the little cap off, and what the spring thing on the spout was all about. Of course this involved spilling gasoline all over my hands and the floor of the garage and the snow blower. But I did manage to get some gas into the tank. Remembered Robert using the green extension cord to plug into the snow blower to start it without pulling the crank. Thank you Robert!
I cleared the driveway all on my own. Took several hours, and another storm is scheduled to start tomorrow. I have gas, I have snow blower, I have Huey. I think I am all set. Well hopefully I am. It is all exhausting being on my own, but I am slowly making my way. On my own.
Today is my birthday. Notice the small b. Not Birthday, just birthday. Don't feel like I have to do anything about it except acknowledge it to myself. There will be no cards on the dining room table when I have breakfast. No birthday kiss. No one here to say Happy Birthday out loud.
But strangely that feels okay. I'm getting used to this being on my own thing. It is not alone, and it is not loneliness. It is being on my own. And what better day to embrace it than on my birthday.
Two nights ago the circuit breaker for the furnace had flipped. After checking the thermostat this morning, I went out to the garage and checked the circuit breaker. Yup it had blown, I reset it. And then called the oil company. The service man showed up quickly and explained to me all the things that could be wrong. I left him to figure it out while I went about my usual morning activities.
During the day I got thinking about what present I could get myself. And realized I had gotten a terrific present last weekend. Huey—my new to me 2005 Dodge Durango truck/SUV. The truck part of my truck and horse trailer dream. Manifested the truck part. Trailer next. Oh and Huey stands for humongous vehicle ; -)
On my own I researched, decided what was important, searched, winnowed down, talked to used car salespeople, selected what I thought was the perfect vehicle and went for a test drive in a town 1-1/2 hours away. I took the truck to a Dodge dealer for a safety inspection, negotiated with the selling salesperson and drove said truck home.
I brought it in for its inspection sticker locally and the dealer found a gas leak. I had to deal with that, call the guy I bought the truck from, re-negotiate with him to cover the cost and then get back to dealer to approve its repair.
Through all of these events not once did I think, I wish I could run this by Robert. And to add to my challenges, my neighbor who had been snow blowing my driveway had his wife suggest to me that I pay someone to plow it. In the middle of one of our ongoing snow storms. We've had over 60" of snow in 3 weeks. After talking with some of my other neighbors I realized I could no longer depend on the kindness of others. And embracing my "inner independent cowgirl" I tackled our snow blower.
Rob had showed me numerous times how to start and operate it. I had always resisted. There was no avoiding it any longer. Went out and bought a new gas "can". Filled it up with gas. I found I've been saying to people, "I've never done this before" quite a lot. And yet I keep going.
While I was worried about operating the snow blower, the new gas can turned out to be the challenge. There were all sorts of absurd safety features. No longer a can with top and spout. I struggled with the gas contraption, eventually figuring out how to get the little cap off, and what the spring thing on the spout was all about. Of course this involved spilling gasoline all over my hands and the floor of the garage and the snow blower. But I did manage to get some gas into the tank. Remembered Robert using the green extension cord to plug into the snow blower to start it without pulling the crank. Thank you Robert!
I cleared the driveway all on my own. Took several hours, and another storm is scheduled to start tomorrow. I have gas, I have snow blower, I have Huey. I think I am all set. Well hopefully I am. It is all exhausting being on my own, but I am slowly making my way. On my own.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)