Patti's Grace Notes

Walking Solo/Input Requested

I woke up with a headache this morning. I don't get them often but this one almost made me miss mass. I hustled at the last moment because I knew that staying home would just make me feel worse. As I peeked out the window my heart ached almost as much as my head - nothing quite as dismal as a downpour and lumps of dirty, nearly melted snow. Have I totally depressed you yet?

Don't worry, things got better. It was good that I didn't remain home and wallow. Mass is always good for me and being among people at mass even better, for the most part. Fr. Petosa was an inspiration, as always when he serves mass - a good homily never hurts. A knowing eye from my bff, Betsy, (can't hide a damn thing from her) and hugs from my pretend grand-kids were greatly appreciated, as well. Betsy and I sipped our Sunday cup of java following mass - I treasure our time together more than she'll ever know, but....I still had that nagging headache.

Scout was waiting for me in her trusting, loyal way and I took her for the walk I'd promised her prior to my departure. It would take more than heavy, cold rain for me to break my word - she is so good for me, as you all have learned. The air felt good and fresh as I breathed in the sweet aroma of pine and cedar and all things outdoors. I started thinking as we walked. If it weren't for her I'd be indoors, feeling blue, and nursing a throbbing cranium.

A kernel of an idea began to form. I reflected on the many positive responses I got from my recent blog about my walk with Scout in the snow. I was almost embarrassed to write about it for fear I'd come off sounding like an aging widow with all the pathetic cliches, but I heard from all sorts of people. Maybe they were just happy that I wasn't moping about my grief-speckled existence. As I wrote that piece I was reflecting on the "little old ladies" I pass in the early morning, walking their dogs and those that I've met at the dog beach hovering over their beloved pooches. Part of me watched these scenes separating myself with distinction: "Well, I'm not THAT old", or "I actually HAVE a life"...etc, etc. But the fact is those women are engaging in life. They aren't sitting at home on the sofa watching reruns of "Murder She Wrote" (well not all the time anyway), they are out WALKING and LIVING and well....LOVING. Those are good and healthy activities. They would probably read a blog about that. It was then that I realized my headache was gone.

So folks, I'm thinking about writing a new blog. Not instead of this one, but adjacent to it. I'd keep it separate because, let's face it, not everyone is a dog person, or if they are their lives might be so full that their animal actually knows that s/he is really a dog...you know, not a....person. Ok, I said it. I'm thinking that this blog would appeal to a special sort of individual and who knows, I might even generate advertising from it. I must thank my friend and mentor, Nathalie of Nathalies Notes, who constantly inspires me. She writes a blog about "writing in the margins" of her life as a wife, mother, and professional writer. She has her ups and downs along this bumpy road of life and inspires herself every day to seek a new angle. So, that's what I must do - inspire myself. It's no one else's job but mine. 

I'm stealing a quote from my wise, oldest daughter (to distinguish from my wise, youngest one) who tweeted today, "What other creature lives this life all the while railing against it...?" I don't know it's origin but could easily write a whole post on it alone. So I'm not asking your opinion on the idea of the blog, because it's my responsibility to try and fulfill my life the best I can in the most meaningful ways I can. And while some well intentioned (joking to a degree...and I took them that way) people commented how "maybe I need a grandchild", I realize that while that could be nice - it's not up to me (thank God). My little Scout is a big part of my life right now and I think this will be fun. What I want to know is - what shall I name it?

Let me know your thoughts: Some of my quick ideas are "Scout's Travels" "Adventure's With Scout", "Rescued" (as in me, not her), "Puppy Love", "Apu's Gift", "Scout: Cock-eye ears and a lick in the eye", "Exploring with Scout" & "My Gal Scout".  Well that's all I have time for right now because said mutt is letting me know she's hungry and bored. I'm open for original ideas as well so feel free to brain storm. I also have some ideas to uplift my "Walking Solo" - more later. 

Bath time after the down pour

It's all about engaging in life, living, and loving - moving forward. We each have to find those things that lift us up and keep our head and hearts in the game. Trying to rail a little less and explore the potential.

 

".....I was far too old and too big for such childish things, and the sooner I learned to hold in, the better off eveybody would be. I soon forgot...." Scout from "To Kill a Mockingbird."

Walking Solo/Snow Days!!

 

Wow! Big day, I just uploaded and posted my first you-tube video. Mercifully, it's private (except for you of course) so the whole bloody world doesn't have to sit through all 29 seconds of it. I figured you've already signed up for the ride so how bad can it hurt to watch my beloved pooch trudge through the new fallen snow? We had a long, beautiful, exhilarating walk and we both loved every second of it.

Okay, I'm not even going to apologize for how obsessed I've become with my buddy Scout - it's scary how much I love her. There have just been too many studies done on the positive effect pets have on people in need. Dogs are the one animal that I've known to be officially allowed in to hospitals to visit the patients (that's not to mention all the varieties that have been smuggled in). In long-term care facilities, I've witnessed, residents respond to pets in ways rarely seen in their human interactions so, no, I'm not going to try to defend myself. I just don't want to be labeled as "one of those" old ladies...., well you know what I mean. I guess it could be worse, I could be a hoarder with 11 cats. I'm not far off - a messy house with one spoiled puppy that can pretty much do what she wants - there....sigh...ok, I guess I am one of those.

I've made a deal with Scout though, she does have to learn how to behave just enough so that she is welcome to be around children and is safe, but I won't make her learn useless tricks or wear funny outfits for my entertainment. She has a couple of sweaters and one heck of a fancy coat for warmth and...well, I confess I made her try on Mikey's Christmas hat, but just for a second. I laughed until I nearly fell over - she wasn't too happy about it either. Sorry baby... lol, still laughing.

As you can see I'm in better spirits. That's just how it is these days - you've got to enjoy them when they come. You'd think the bitter cold and snow would have me isolated and on my knees - nope. I can't explain it but I was motivated to go out truckin' around the ice & snow in the jeep, playing in the back yard with Scout and taking long, brisk treks along the winter landscape. We were even the first ones to discover a downed power line and called it in. I waited with my hazard lights blinking and the policeman nearly patted me on the head when he showed up.

I've managed to get some school work done, the Christmas decorations put away, and a few odd chores caught up. I even paid some bills earlier than necessary. It may sound ridiculous, but these are small things that make me feel calmer inside - a little more settled. I have to take full advantage when the urge strikes. Maybe it's about control. If I can contain my surroundings in small ways it helps me cope better with so much of which I have no command - like, say, the weather. Yes my first week's schedule at the hospital with my brand new group of students has been totally trashed, but we are warm, cozy, and safe, dates have been adjusted, and the students got extra study time before their first big exam. 

I have a few more projects to tackle before the week-end is out, but I took time today to indulge my furry bestie once more. Today is Scout's birthday - well as close as I can guess. Most of you may remember that I rescued her in July on what would have been my 38th wedding anniversary. As near as my vet could calculate, she was pronounced to be 6 months old. Never too proud to use a worthy cliche -"my how time flies!" Since that made January the one year mark and since Scout's previous owner was deceased leaving no information about her, I figured that among that individual, Apu, and my mother, who's birthday would have been today - Scout was chosen especially for me and January 20th would be a fine day for her birthday. 

She loves me in a tail waggin', face lickin' (and I mean the whole face, nostrils and all - I know, yuck!) sleeping on my bed in the crook of my knee, neck nuzzlin' kind of way. It's complete and unconditional and I love her right back because, well she's helped to patch one little corner of a great big hole in my heart. I read a saying recently which, I am sure, is as commercial as they come, but I kinda like it...because it's true - "I want to be the kind of person that my dog thinks I am". I have a way to go, but I'm working on it~

 

Thank you to Betsy, Piper & Nate for helping celebrate Scout's 1st Birthday!

Walking Solo/I've Been Havin' Some Hard Travelin'

 

Howdy there~ (That there way of talkin' is kinda infectious). I've missed you and feel a little guilty for my absence - not that you've noticed. We've all been a little busy these past few weeks haven't we. Truth is these holidays left me feeling like I've had a swift whack to the back of my knees with a bamboo cane. Even though I felt mostly in charge and tried to keep things in check - they just sort of leveled me. Maybe it's year two of my solo journey, maybe it's this time of year, perhaps it's my own apathy - I really don't know. I just want to do a quick check even though my heart isn't in it. No reflection on you - it's me. I'm feeling just a bit heavy-hearted but not full blown depression. I'm ok.

As emotional as it all was, Christmas was truly wonderful with our grown children all around me snuggled in our mountain retreat. We headed up a couple of days before, trimmed a "Charley Brown" Christmas tree with strings of popcorn and cranberries. We were all virtually "unplugged" and spent our time cooking, baking, reading, listening to Christmas music, and just being together. In spite of the forecast it snowed on Christmas day just as the kids predicted. They were convinced that Apu would arrange it. It was truly magical.

Grabbed a tree on the way up (a story in itself!)    Our cabin Christmas 

Traditions remain~                                                    Owl PJ's in force! (another story...sheez)

 
Christmas surprise! Mikey came for a visit!!! (Scout was SO happy)

Our girls had to head south to their homes in California before the new year, but I found myself back up in the mountains to celebrate New Year's Eve with a couple of my siblings and a nephew. A foot of snow had fallen during the week-glorious!  It was nice - laid back, just the way I prefer to begin the new year. Even in the best of times I've been nostalgic at auld lang syne (translated "old long since") - while most things do, some things never change. 

So, the road's been a little rough lately, but I keep it all in perspective - I'm fine, the gang is great (a few heart breaks here and there) and relatively speaking things could be a whole hell-of-a-lot worse - I am well aware of that. I'm back at work and all manner of craziness is already in play, so I don't have much time to wallow. As I said, I've missed you and promise to harass you more frequently - I think my weary soul needs it. Happy New Year to all and may your travels be light and breezy, at least try to avoid hitting "the hard rock" and .....try to stay out of jail.

Up at the lake - New Year's Day

Walking Solo/Holding Very Tight

 

I just returned from a concert in a surrounding much like this, with family and friends, and with a similar atmosphere. It was a "Celtic Christmas" and it was beautiful and peaceful - just what I needed. 

I read my post from a year ago just about this date - It was a pretty sad period. It's still difficult, of course, especially late at night alone in a near empty supermarket listening to the commercial Christmas music wafting to no one in particular ...but I've turned a corner of sorts...I think - well that's how I feel today anyway.

I've learned to follow my heart a little better. In Joan Didion's book that I've mentioned lately, "The Year of Magical Thinking", she refers to the plethora of "how to guides" to deal with the pain of grieving. Somehow I've managed to avoid some of the pitfalls like "Don't drink too much. Don't spend the insurance money redecorating. Don't join a support group". I've learned to 'look' like I'm holding up pretty well and appear like I'm accepting my reality. Remembering to breathe has been a large part of this success. I think I'm managing to do this more naturally, more often now.

This holiday season is a real test and I've tried to pay attention to myself - how I feel, what seems like a good idea and what to avoid. So far I've been fairly successful. I finished what I needed to effectively conclude fall quarter at school. I attended the faculty holiday party held at one of my favorite colleague's house - and shocker...I had fun. I've had a few other social options and with careful selection and planning have enjoyed each one I chose to attend. I limited my time and involvement...letting it flow naturally. I discovered that, in this way, I was actually mentally and emotionally present. I tire easily and don't bounce back as quickly - pacing myself is crucial.

My Christmas shopping has been controlled and contained - much less than in the past. I've completed a few projects, but not anything I knew I couldn't accomplish in the allotted time. I made the decision to greatly curb my card writing and in fact have not sent one yet. My plan is to email a greeting to most and those I don't see often I'll write a note....or not - maybe before Christmas, maybe after. I hung lights outside knowing that Apu would approve and that gave me pleasure - I even put up a small tree like the last one we last selected together. It delights me and that feels nice. I had my first party since my husband died - nothing big, just a few of my girl friends over for wine and some appetizers. I kept it simple and enjoyed time with each person who stopped by. 

Yes, I think things are looking up - as in "to the heavens". I ask for help constantly. I pray for courage, wisdom, knowledge, and patience. I speak to my honey often - sometimes out loud. "How are you doing sweetie? How do you think I'm handling things? Sometimes I feel you urging me along...sometimes I feel so all alone, but I know you so well. I know what you'd want for me - for our family. We're trying - we really are. Sometimes like tonight in that quiet, candle-lit chapel filled with music of the angels I miss you more than ever, but I don't think that will ever change." I think maybe I'll just get better at accepting that fact - but then it just may depend on the day. 

Here's a re-post of one of our Christmas favorites. Holding very tight to memories while riding in the midnight blue. Wishing all of you the magic of this beautiful Season~

 

Walking Solo/Still Trying To Think Magically

 

Oh my gosh I am not kidding - I ran around the house chasing Scout till she was gasping (or was that me?). Then I fixed her a snack and STILL she is sitting at the foot of my chair with her pet squirrel in her mouth and growling for me to throw it. Honestly, I get no peace.

Okay, I have her settled on my lap for a few seconds but she's licking vsdrefgsa;jaa (oops) the keyboard. Oh, if I hurry I have a second while she's chewing on her own tail. Ow, Scout -that's me!

Ughhh- Well you see the harassment I'm under, and I'm not exaggerating. I really just wanted to mention that I continue to find value in this book, The Year Of Magical Thinking. Even though I purchased it for myself I found it in a pile of books well meaning friends got for me throughout the last year - now I have two. I guess we've just got to wait until we're ready for these things.

I'm reading where Joan refers to work by Melanie Klein, "Mourning and Its Relation to Manic-Depressive States," where she states that "The mourner is in fact ill, but because this state of mind is common and seems so natural to us, we do not call mourning an illness....." Klein puts her conclusion more precisely,"I should say that in mourning the subject goes through a modified and transitory manic-depressive state and overcomes it." I love the "overcomes it" part.

Didion goes on to describe that this is where the magical thinking part comes in....the next few months she waited for her husband to return...

She sites several examples of "warning flags" that should have been noticed and mine were not far off. She posted obituaries but could not read them and was disturbed that she had allowed other people think her husband was dead. I wouldn't even post an obituary and now I understand why. I returned correspondence with the Medical Society and requested they stop sending my husband renewal notices. I explained why. Several months later a former colleague who has moved out of the area found out about his death by reading it in the Medical Society's journal. I remember thinking, "How dare they tell them that." Even that remote made it a bit too real.

Another similarity we have is the cleaning out of our loved one's closet. She speaks of particular items and the memory connected with them. The well-intentioned offers of help to do this and, of course, the resistance. I was especially struck when she spoke of her husbands shoes. I thought it was just me - my sensitivity to his shoes because they were his one submission to any sartorial tendency. That and the fact that together we braved our son's closet following the horrific accident that claimed both of his legs. Never did it occur to me that I just might think he'd need them if he was to return.

I know what I'm saying...I know our Apu is dead, but that is the thing about magical thinking.......you can know a thing to be true and act otherwise. It's a long road this is...and it's my journey. I've emptied his closet yes, but recently I discovered that I did in fact leave behind one pair of shoes. 

 

Walking Solo/Magical Thinking

Where has the last month gone?....the last three months for that matter? This has been a fall to remember - trips to New York, Kona, and Sacramento, visitors, garage sale, new school year begun, raising up Scout (she won't leave me alone for two seconds...honestly. I love her madly, but it's like having a new born. Oh, how I've forgotten. I type threee words, throw her toy - she fetches and if I'm not fast enough to throw it again she growls her impatience. How did I live without her? And now the holidays! How the heck did that happen already? Thanksgiving was at my house - my 2nd without Apu. 

I finished my end of the quarter conferences with my nursing students today. Another quarter completed, another group one step closer to completing their dream. We need them badly, these bright, young, enthusiastic professionals. We just can't seem to educate them fast enough. I'm so proud of all of them.

I now have a little more time for reading other things besides medical resource books, articles, and student papers. I've just started a book that a friend gave me called, The Year Of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion. She is an author of some renown, having written several books, but this one is about her personal bereavement as she grieves the loss of her husband. (Scout is now on my lap which is not quite big enough for her long body [thanks to the dachshund ingredient to her mix]. I have to fold her into a circle so she can settle. Maybe one of those papoose things would work). Oh, yeah...Joan Didion...

She compares this loss with the loss of her parents. A friend of hers wrote to her at that time on the death of a parent: "despite our preparation, indeed,  despite our age, dislodges things deep in us, sets off reactions that surprise us and that may cut free memories and feelings that we had thought gone to ground long ago. We might, in that indeterminate period they call mourning, be in a submarine, silent on the ocean's bed, aware of the depth charges, now near and now far, buffeting us with recollections."

Like Joan, my father is dead, my mother is dead and while I felt devastated I could still go about my daily tasks - function to some degree. With my husband it is very different. It effects me profoundly everyday. I feel that the fog is only beginning to partly lift. My father was only 62 when he died of a brain tumor (my age-yikes) and my mother followed 14 years later to the month. We had time before with both, to prepare, but still loss is loss. I think of my children and how they are managing their grief. 

Joan writes, "Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life." She state how virtually everyone who has experienced grief mentions this phenomenon of "waves". Even I wrote about this sensation some months ago in my blog. (Old Post Review).

Eric Lindemann, chief of psychiatry at Massachusetts General Hospital in the 1940's, interviewed many family members of those killed in the 1942 Cocoanut Grove fire. In his famous 1944 study he described, "sensations of somatic [physical] distress occurring in waves lasting from twenty minutes to an hour at a time, a feeling of tightness in the throat, choking with shortness of breath, a need for sighing, and an empty feeling in the abdomen, lack of muscular pwer, and intense subjective distress escribed as tension or mental pain." 

Tightness in the throat.

Choking, need for sighing...

Joan said such waves began for her on the morning of December 31st, 2003 (24 days after our son was nearly killed in Prague). Mine started anew on August 14, 2010.

 

 

Walking Solo/May the Lord Protect and Defend You

 

 I'd like to dedicate this post to my brother Ken - I love you, Kenneth.

Yesterday was my little brother's birthday and I was lucky enough to spend it with him and his favorite kid, Kendall (his only one). Gee - wonder how he thought of that name?

I grabbed Scout and jumped on a ferry to the Kitsap Peninsula to meet them after a morning of soccer games with my fake grand kids (thanks for sharing, Betsy). We didn't have a formal plan, but I wanted to surprise Ken with something a little special so I looked up the Bremerton Community Theater and found that one of my all time favorites was being performed, "Fiddler On The Roof!" We took our pups for a walk on a local trail and while strolling he quipped, "You know, what I'd really like to do is go to a play." I came back with, "SHUT-UP! That's what I've planned for us!" We both love to go to movies and that is a common outing for us, so it was quite funny that we both had the same idea.

The ticket office is only open M-F so I wasn't sure if they'd still have seats available. We went to dinner at a Korean restaurant and then we showed up 40 minutes early to see if we could get tickets. Ken said, "Hey I'll give you $5 if you'll go get tickets by singing your request to a Fiddler tune." Like that was any kind of a real challenge. Kendall being an easily embarrassed ninth grader secretly wished I hadn't heard him. I approached the little window singing to the tune of "If I Were A Rich Man" (click to hear). Mine went: "Do you have some tickets? - yabba dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum. I need three for my brother, niece and me - could you pleaaaseee sellll meee some?" That's as far as I got before we all burst out laughing, including the ticket salesman. I never got my five bucks.

I love all three of my brothers, but I adore my brother Ken. He makes me laugh even when neither of us has one damn thing to laugh about. If I see an email from him I'll open it immediately because I know it will lift me up. I hope I do the same for him. I'm not as funny, I know, but I always laugh at all and anything he says so that has to be worth something. He, like many in my family have had a rough year. His profession relies largely on the housing industry and we all know how that's been going lately. It seems he's had one crisis after the other but he always battles his way through. He does it for Kendall, I know, but we also help each other. He's my little brother - I'm eight years older, but I lean on him too. I'm lucky to have him as my friend.

This musical was perfect for us, on this day, given all we've been through lately. His daughter asked us "What the title of the musical meant? What did the fiddler have to do with anything?" So I asked her if she remembered the opening scene where the fiddler sat precariously on top of the roof of the house and Tevye tells us that "everyone of us is like a fiddler on the roof - trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck." One might ask, why stay up there if it's so dangerous? He goes on to explain that we stay because it's what we know....it's our home, and we go on trying to live while keeping our balance. Then says...we may ask "how we keep that balance?" One word - Tradition! Without our traditions he says, "our life would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof."

I love tradition - God help me. I'm sure it's making this loss of my life partner so difficult - we had such traditions. I'm sure it helped return our children to us from every, far foreign corner they explored. Apu is such a part of this Fiddler on the Roof story. Though he wasn't Jewish his upbringing and life experience is from this part of the world. The music is definitely a part of it.  The song "Sunrise, Sunset" was the only live music at our wedding all those many years ago (see old post). 

When our oldest daughter was preparing to marry, our Northwest family and friends from both sides gathered for a "couples" wedding shower. It was just a big party and It was wonderful to have so many people that we loved all together to celebrate that happy time. Apu and I wanted to do something special - a surprise for our daughter and her fiance. I had a wild idea and never dreamed Apu would go for it. "Let's perform 'Do You Love Me?' from Fiddler on the Roof!!" I reminded him of the scene and assured him it would be easy and fun and we'd be GREAT! "How bad could it be", I reminded him - "we'll be among friends and family. It's not like there'll be any critics in the crowd." He said "Vell....okay" and so - that's what we did. We didn't tell a soul....then we rehearsed, rehearsed, and rehearsed till we got it down. The night of the party the mother of the groom-to-be made a little toast and while I prepared to make mine, Apu sneaked in another room to get ready. I then told the couple that there were two visitors who had a message of love to share with them and they had just arrived in person to deliver it. I went to get them and Apu and I returned in costume and performed the scene below:

 

Didn't exactly sound like this, but we tried!

It went over pretty well - we got some laughs, and a few tears too. I don't know- maybe we were that bad. We had fun and I was so proud of him - He WAS Tevye. 

It was a wonderful day with my brother and his beautiful daughter. I was reminded once again that I am truly not alone - not really although late at night and early in the morning it sure feels like it. We were both happy to spend the time together, enjoy a wonderful, quality performance (we were so pleasantly surprised) and also to be reminded that it is possible to find balance no matter how precarious things can get-shaky rooves and all. I have your back, my precious, courageous brother. Thanks for having mine.

 

Walking Solo/Is That All There Is?

 

I'm just going to plunge in here....I have no idea where in the heck I'm going with this. Maybe if I just start rambling something will come. 

I must have had some kind of idea to begin with that title and this video. I only know that I'm struggling a bit these days...maybe more than a bit. I made it through August and survived my first year of tremendous loss and then September hurried up to greet me and by the time I'd lost a little momentum October just sorta slammed into me. I'm not quite sure what's going on. I think I'm too tired to figure it all out. 

Besides the "Post-Kona Blues" (an actual malady, by the way) there are a few things happening around me besides my own little pity party. One of my dearest friends is enduring the trauma/drama of her first grandchild being born at just 24 weeks - that's skipping the entire third trimester (not even completing the second one). Little Benson is fighting hard and it's a miracle that he's still hanging in there. We call him our littlest ironman, but the toll on the family is tremendous. Two of my brothers have had serious health scares in the last few weeks and my third one has worked so hard to hold his world together after facing several crises. One cousin has a serious health concern and another's husband is in the care of Hospice living out his final days. Life is damn difficult and don't I know it. We work so hard; we try our darnedest and in the end....is that all there is?

A few months ago I promised my friend Pat that I would attend the "Women of Faith" event that was held in Seattle last weekend. Truthfully, I didn't even know what it was, having never heard of this organization before, and was a somewhat skeptical after learning that this year's theme was "Over The Top". Even though I tend to be a bit private about my faith (except for this blog and close friends and family) I love and trust Pat and decided to commit to this for her sake. Once I'd done that my attitude, as usual, is "what the heck" just be open - how "over the top" can it be?

This is an experience that I think is best described in this video, for any who might be interested and curious (Women of Faith). It was "over the top" but in a good way, not in an uncomfortable, Bible-thumping, turn-you-off sort of way. Just like the they say on the video, I laughed, I cried, I sang (in my own little way) and I laughed again. No one rolled in the aisles, (not on purpose anyway) no one spoke in tongues (you know what I mean) and I never once was asked to come on stage to "save" myself. It was truly a celebration and that, interestingly enough, is the theme for next year's event. I'd love to get my girls to go...but we'll see. Everything has it's time, I've discovered. 

I had many favorite moments and I absorbed from the event that which spoke just to me - of course, but one stood out in particular. A woman named Marilyn Meberg took the mike and I wasn't immediately charmed by her like I was the others. She is a bit formidable looking at first, rather straight-lace and serious - not immediately charismatic like the others. I didn't know of her nor had I read anything about her (or the others for that matter) prior to attending. As I said, I was fitting this little sojourn in to accommodate my dear friend and I didn't think it would hurt too much. What? It's as good a reason to go as any...plus much less painful than telling Pat "no". I was pleasantly surprised by this woman's wry sense of humor, quick wit and unquestionable intelligence. While the others entertained, she had something to say. I didn't really connect with her until she spoke about losing her husband, Ken, after 29 years of marriage when he died of cancer. Here is a little sample of this amazing woman.

 

Turns out she's a Washington girl originally, became a licensed child therapist and now travels the world sharing faith and optimism. So there she is standing in the middle of Key Arena in Seattle begging the question, "Is that all there is?" She reminded all of us of Peggy Lee's lyrics and our tendency to be unsatisfied in most areas of our lives - seemingly always wanting more. It was easy imagining people that I know wanting bigger, nicer houses, a fancier car, better behaved children, or a more loving spouse. But where she really had me was when she said that all she really wanted was more time with her Ken. That one really hit home for me because above anything else I could want....I only wanted more time. And the beautiful part was when, at the end of her talk, she said, "There is more - a lot more, we just have to be patient and wait for it. I have that to look forward to - eternity with Ken Meberg."

I guess that doesn't work for everyone and I feel sad for them. I realize that I have a head start since I've had my whole life to work on my belief system, but I really do believe that rather than "The Cause" - "He is the answer." I have to work at it like everyone else, but in the center of me it feels so right. I'll just keep trucking along on my solo journey which seems so alone because my own personal leash (although I never thought of it like that) got dropped Big Time, but I also know that my connections are many and very strong. I just need to remind myself more often just how very blessed I am to have all those I love and who love me. With a little hope, a lot of prayer and a big leap of faith I think we'll discover that beyond the blue there's a whole lot more.

 

 

Walking Solo/Emptying Apu's Closet

Project 1000 - minus 915

Hello out there! I have been absent in case you haven't noticed. This has been the longest I haven't written since I started my blog over two years ago. Well, I've missed you, but in all honesty...I needed the break. I've been a little busy.

So much has happened and there is no way that I'm going to be able to fill you in on everything in this one little post, but I have to start somewhere and it's a bit overwhelming to be so behind. Many of you close to me have been a part of the latest happenings or at least know what my little clan and I have been up to, but I know I have some gaps to fill for many of my loyal readers - all three of you, lol.

The last time I posted it was just before my sister-in-love's visit from Sweden. She is Apu's sister and this was her first trip here since her brother's death - quite emotional for both of us. She came with the new man in her life and I didn't feel so bad about continuing with my plans to hold my garage sale the 2nd weekend in September since she was busy showing him around. I had two garages FULL of stuff and limited time to unload it before starting back to work. In addition a trip to New York loomed ahead the weekend following the start of fall quarter AND a week after that I left for the Kona Ironman on the Big Island where our son competed along with over 1800 other, beyond human, athletes for the 140 mile triathlon. That alone will take three posts....I still haven't recovered from that one.

I must say, though, that my biggest accomplishment of them all was emptying Apu's closet right before the garage sale. I made certain that each of our children had time to enter it and take whatever they wanted. Apu's sister also was able hug his sweaters and choose some keepsakes. Clearing his personal space was the whole reason for planning such an exhausting event in the first place - that and the fact that my daughter-in-love has never taken part in this national past time. We planned it from the early spring and though she claims that her home country of Romania is one BIG yard sale I felt she couldn't truly be embraced by America until she had experienced this phenomenon. As it turned out she found a new part-time job in early September and wasn't very available, so thank God for my buddy Vera who brought her own wares, including a sofa, and worked her butt off with me.

I think I was too exhausted, numb, and cold (first real weekend of fall, rain and moist chill - naturally) to remember to take any snapshots. They would have been too painful of a reminder anyway so it's just as well. I must say that if I'd had just a tad more energy I would have written copious notes of my observations of the characters that entered my garage during those two days. I might not have had a best seller, but I do think that a some psychologists and a few anthropologists may have been interested in my findings - fascinating. My favorite was the man who became insulted when I announced upon his entrance that I had no tools to sell. This was after the first words out of the previous seven men had been, "Are you selling any tools?"

The greatest part of the two days was when a soft spoken gentleman had assembled a pile of some of Apu's favorite pieces of clothing - he wasn't a style setter, but he liked quality. "How much will you charge me for all of this?', he asked. "I'm sending things to my village in Africa." I responded by charging him $10 for anything he wanted and then provided duffle bags to pack it in. I just knew that Apu would be pleased that his items would be appreciated and well used. This garage sale was never about the money. It was about unloading my heavy heart and clearing out to make room in my soul. The $500 that Vera and I made didn't hurt either.

So dear people, I'm b-a-c-k! I'm trying to make sense of this 2nd year of walking solo. It's painful and somehow more real - the edges are sharper, the lines less blurry. There is some comfort in numbness, I guess that's why some people self medicate. It's tempting, but I know that Apu would just not approve - plus somethings are just more appreciated in sharp focus like the bright yellow of a New York cab whizzing by in a downpour, a perfect piece of coconut cheesecake on Arthur Avenue, swimming with a sea turtle in the turquoise water off a Hawaiian beach and the triumphant smile of an Ironman athlete as he crosses the finish line....especially when it's our son. Yes, the hurt, loss, and pain are very real - but so are the joys. I'm ready to embrace them all~ 

Project 1000/Minus 500

WooHoo!! Halfway there!

I actually don't need to get to 1000 until the end of December, but I'm still plowing through stuff and it feels great to hit the 500 mark. Maybe I'll even pass 1000. The sad part is I'm hardly making a dent, but you know the old saying, "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."

What a mess, what a mess my garage is in, but I have to store everything somewhere. It shouldn't be for too long and then I'll be able to clear some space in there. Discarding outter clutter also frees up some space in the soul - not to mention the head. One of the most difficult items to part with is the guitar left to me by my best friend, Gloria, who died in an automobile accident when she was only 27. I hung on to it not only because it was a part of her, but because I thought I'd learn to play it. I guess the fact that it has no strings on it and most of the tuning keys are loose might be an indication of how far I got on that one. I did buy a very nice strap for it, kind of hippie-style which could be a hint of when it was purchased. Time to let it go. I'm not losing her, just as with Apu - their 'stuff' is not them. Never was. Maybe some grateful kid will appreciate the deal and do more with it than I ever could. I think I'm ready for ukulele anyway - maybe when we're in Kona for my son's Ironman. Nice souvenier don't you think? I'll save it for my next garage sale. 

 

I'm also getting my sister-in-love's room ready for her arrival from Sweden on Tuesday. This will be a bittersweet coming together as we haven't seen each other since my husband, her brother, died last August. Fortunately we had all been together that June and she and I were so grateful to have had that time. I know this will be painful, but also joyful for both of us.

Well I better get "crack-a-lacking", as my son says. He's doing a bit of that himself since he came in 2nd in his division at the US Paratriathlon Nationals in New York City in August and earned himself a berth to represent the United States in Beijing next week. I spent yesterday running around town tracking down Yuan, Chinese currency. No one will accompany him on this leg of his journey (no pun intended, and don't worry he'll be the first to laugh) since it was so unexpected and each of us is full up to our eyebrows with life, work, travel, visitors....and yes garage sales. As you can see, we are a family on the go. Some of us to Beijing to compete for a world title - others taking walks with Scout in the magnificent Pacific Northwest. Which one is more significant.....let me think on that....