The Week of It

It has been a fabulous week of back to reality after the wedding of my dreams. There has been a lot of bad weather here in Texas, and a few days before the weeding, the skies opened up and it was a monsoon of rain for several days. Aaaand a huge puddle of water on the floor due to a leak in the roof. In between picking friends and family form the airport, breakfast with bridesmaids and general wedding stuff, I was talking to the insurance company, the contractor and the adjuster. Yeehaw.

And both of us were back to work, as we are taking our honeymoon in the fall. So it was back to work, and bills, and housecleaning, and laundry and life. Except it was better. Because I am a wife now, with a husband. Because we are together, bound by law and in God’s eyes. We are building this life, this love, this everything to be exactly what we want it to be. And there are blessing all around.

Indeed, I have never felt as beautiful as I did on my wedding day. It was truly magic. It was supposed to rain all day, but the clouds parted and the sun was shining for most of the day. It was glorious. And those I love and who love me where there as witnesses. And life will never be the same.

And that is the thing about love, it transforms our lives into the spectacular miracle that only love can make it. Because life without love is…nothing. And now I know what my parents talked about when they spoke about their love, and how they felt about each other, and all of the miracles it took to bring them together. And I know that they ae smiling down on my, and my husband.

And I understand why it didn’t work with any of my ex’s. Why all of the others, many of them quite nice, were just not quite…right. And I see the bullets that were dodged, and how it was such a blessing to not end up with some of them – the alcoholic financial exec, the narcissist that cheated on me with prostitutes and strippers, the one who ghosted me to mow his lawn, the one….and on and on. I understand all of those unanswered prayers. Because God knew there was someone for me, right here in Texas. He knew we were meant for each other even before we met. And maybe I sound like a mushy sap, and I am. And that’s OK, because I am also ridiculously happy.

Life is short. And finally I found my person. My partner. My love. And life will never be the same. Even in the every day ordinary of day to day dealings. And I will never be the same either. And that is the best answered prayer of all.

The Rush to Breath

It is a few days before the wedding and life is a crazy rush to get everything done. Getting the house ready, running last minute errands, sending out emails, answering questions, making sure everything knows where they are supposed to be and when, writing vows, going to alterations and fittings, picking loved ones up from the airport, practicing the first dance so I don’t trip or throw my new husband’s back out, organizing pre wedding gatherings, makes for busy and hectic days. Add to that a leaking roof and water all over the foyer, finishing up a freelance project where the clients refuse to pay the amount agreed upon (if you hire an editor, let them edit a complete document, not a half finished one you are still writing), getting legal involved, and a few ex’s popping back up (no, thank you), and trying to drink water and stay hydrated…It’s a lot. Enough to make anyone exhausted.

And sometimes when things get hectic we get overwhelmed and forget to breath. In the midst of all the hectic extraneous noise, it’s easy to get carried away in the kinetic energy of the moment. So what do we do when we find ourselves frazzled by the everything that is life? What I have to remind myself to do is take a moment, breath, pray, and have faith that it will all work out. Because at the end of the day, I am marrying the best man I have ever known (not counting my Dad). And at the end of the day, that is all that matters.

And maybe that is the key to life – focusing in on what is truly important to put things into proper perspective. In 10 years, what will matter is that I married this man, not that the house was perfect or the first dance wasn’t.

Yes, in this day and age of information all of the time, and being busy as a sign or status, we can cut out the noise. And we do that by stepping away and breathing to simplify our thoughts, calm our minds, and amalgamate what is meaningful and essential in our lives. Even if we feel so overwhelmed that we are gasping for air, we can slow things down enough to be manageable. And that is what I have had to do, even as the wedding to do list seems to grow by the minute.

It is the rush to breath, so to speak, and slow things down. Time will continue forward, even if everything on my to do list isn’t done. And that’s OK, because the things that are truly important to me are already right there.

Life is short. Too short to be so overwhelmed and busy that we forget to enjoy what is important and right in front of us. So cross your to do list off you to do list. Breath and look around you. And take the time to enjoy the beauty in this life you have created.

The Day is Almost Here

Hi Mom and Dad,

It feels so strange to be getting married and not have you here. No Mother-daughters moments getting ready, no Dad walking me down the isle. And yet here I am, just a few days away from one of the happiest days of my life. And I am beyond excited, and happy, and every emotion that comes along with planning a wedding and getting married. But you guys are really not here, not in the physical sense. And that is so very strange.

And I just wanted to say that, or write that, out loud. Because when I write it, it’s real. I wish you could have met this wonderful man, because I know you both would like him. Dad you would enjoy talking about engineering, and beer. Mom, you guys would stay up talking about about politics and the state of the world. Both of you would enjoy discussing history with him, as he is incredible well read and knowledgeable.

Dad, two wonderful men are walking me down the isle to give me away, two because they have some huge shoes to fill. Mom, you would like my mother-in-law too and I am blessed have her in my life.

I know you will be looking down on me, smiling at my wedding. Just know that you are loved and missed. And you are always in my heart.

A Glimps

It seems that life has been so busy and full lately, and I just want to soak every minute, every second up like a sponge. Between wrapping up contracts, shopping for new contracts, interviewing, planning the wedding, dinner parties, bridal showers, exercising and trying to lose that last 5 pounds…It has been crazy. And wonderful.

Sometimes in life, maybe you do get everything you want. Maybe somewhere after puberty and all the hard work of being an adult, somewhere in between hope and laughter, and in the space that separates fact from fiction, our dreams become reality and we find happiness.

And what a long strange journey it has been to where I stand now. To be here now, with a full heart and more love than I knew a life could hold. Sometimes I have to remind myself that this really is my life, and yes I do deserve it.

And I wonder would I be here now if I had not taken the roads less travelled? Would I have found my way here, in this place in this moment, if I had not had the struggles, heartaches, missteps and adventures leading up to now? Which begs the questions are we the sum of our parts in that respect?

Yes, I think we are, even though we are also more than the sum as a whole. I don’t know if I would still be in this exact place if a million little moments, miracles, and decisions didn’t line up exactly so. I do know that every experience in my life has made me who I am now. And maybe that is the glimpse into the future, knowing that all of our collective experiences lead us and build our lives into one huge, wonderful, complex novel.

We write the chapters of our lives with each step and decision that we make. And we are free to change direction nd start over anytime we want. We are never too old, too young or too anything to start over, change direction, make a new decision, or new direction. So if you feel stuck in life – whether it’s a job, or city, or relationship, you can change that with one decision. That is all it takes.

So take that chance, take the step, make the move and write the next chapter – make it whatever you want it to be. No one can change you life except for you. Remember that.

A little over three years ago I moved 1,000 miles away to where I am now. I was devastated from the death of my parents, family drama concerning the will, and a broken relationship. And then I woke up one morning and realized I didn’t have to be there any more. Some people called me crazy, but most of my friends reminded me of who I was, and that anything was possible. They helped me pack and move. And life wasn’t perfect just because I moved, but it did slowly get better, as my heartache healed.

Life is short. Too short to be stuck when you don’t have to be, and you never have to be. If we are the collective sum of our parts and experiences, then you have nothing to loose and everything to gain. Take. The. Chance. I promise you it’s worth it.

On Lent Time

Lent is a time of reflection and discipline. And that is good. Many people dread the time of Lent, afraid to slow down and really examine self and things around our lives that create the little worlds we live in. But I look forward to it every year. It is an automatic slow down that I need to take stock and plan out the rest of the year. But this year was a little different. It was peppered with death of close friends and world tragedies.

While I might not be as disciplined as I like, this has been a time of quiet thought. And what I have realized, right down to the deepest parts of my soul, is that I have been incredibly blessed. Even in my worst time, even when things looks the darkest, or most painful, I have been blessed to have this life, and get to enjoy so much now.

And maybe the loss of those you love makes you more aware of the every day blessings. I don’t know. But what I do know, is that I never want to take any day that I am given for granted. Each day that I am here, that those I love are here, is a day to celebrate and do my best at what the days holds. That doesn’t mean be happy every moment. But it does mean keeping things in perspective.

I am with the love of my life, and the rest of my loved ones are healthy and doing well. I have a job and a career that I love. My man and I love our house in this great neighborhood, and the most challenging things at the moment are trying to find the time to pant the garden, clean the house, exercise, keep in touch with friends, have a social life and fold the piles of laundry. That’s not bad considering what is could be, or even looking at where I was 2 years ago, 4 years ago, etc.

And that is the thing about life – it is often subjective. Depending on your point of view, every situation could either be good or bad. The secret is being an optimistic realist – acknowledging the bad but always being hopeful about the future and grateful for all the wonderful thing in he present.

Life is short, too short to be grumpy. So go out and enjoy the sunshine and the rain, because both are necessary for the flowers, and for a good life.

Diamond in the Pieces

Every morning I get up, make coffee, meditate, pray and work in the garden. I have never been a morning person, s most of that gets done during of after coffee. But one thing that is for sure, gardening is a lot of work. I must spend time weeding the every. Single. morning. And if I skip a few days, it shows. I am not sure how the weeds grow faster than any of the flowers and vegetables, but they do. It is as if the weeds grow in fast forward and everything else grows in slow motion. And so I get outside, which is wonderful, and weed while I drink the coffee. I breathe in the morning air, notice the sky, and appreciate my life.

And I realize that there are many parallels between life and gardening. Both take a lot of work. Both take dedication. Both require you to get up every day, decide to work hard, and then you do it. And sometimes you must weed out the clutter, the toxic people and minutia or order for what is good to not just grow, but thrive.

No matter what you do in life, or what goals you have, hard work and dedication is what is needed to get you there. It takes hard work to earn a degree, or be successful at a job, to have healthy relationships, do stay in good physical and mental shape, to play piano…or to have a garden. And that is the thing about life, you get out what you put into it. So choose your hard.

I choose to work hard, play hard, rest hard and love hard. With all of my heart. And it shows. Because there must also be balance. And that is what I struggle with the most. Working hard and going hard it easy, it’s the balance that is difficult. Because that to do list is always calling. But I am learning to do things in smaller pieces. For instance, I am tempted to weed all of the gardens in one morning. But if I did that, it would take most of the day. But if I work in the gardens for 45-60 minutes each morning, there is time to weed and do other tasks. It is resisting to “all or nothing urge that I have as a Type A person.

The same with working out. I do not have time to exercise for a time, however, if I do a few sit ups, crunches and squats through out the day, I can get them done. So I have started working hard, a little at a time. And it’s working. Things are getting done, even if it is a little at a time. In resisting the urge to go hard and get it all done in one fell swoop, I do some as I can, then move on to the next.

And maybe that is the key to a happy life as well. You go and do a little at a time, so everything and everyone gets attention, and there is no burnout, even when you give it everything you have. Rome wasn’t built in a day, that garden won’t grow and produce all at once, and there is time to do it all. Once we slow down enough to break it up into pieces.

Life is short. And many times it’s not easy. So chose your hard, and go for it with all that you have. Take it in small chunks, and soon, after all of the hard work, your life will shine like a diamond.

This Day

This day, September 11th, will always be remembered by those who were old enough to experience it. At the risk of sounding old, the younger generation has no idea what it is like to see, either in person or on the news, an area that vast, where rescuers are still looking for remains even a year later. They have no idea what it is like to know people who were or should have been in those buildings, wondering if they are alive, or if they were one of the many who jumped or were buried alive.

They have no idea what it was like to go and see Ground Zero, before it was built back up, before there were monuments and new buildings, when it was just a huge hole, larger than you could ever imagine, and know that so many people were now part of the dust.

To me this day is a somber one, but one we should never forget because there are so many lessons that were learned.  It was the day our innocence was lost as a country, I think.

But for me it is also a day to be thankful.  thankful that I live in this wonderful country. No matter how many problems we seem to have, at least we are free.  And I am thankful for that freedom.  That were are still Americans and not subject to Sharia Law. That as a woman, I am still allowed every right I had before that date so many years ago.

I am thankful for my job and amazing career, for my friends, and that we are all OK. That we work hard and have a roof over our heads, food, running water, electricity, a comfortable bed where we sleep and do not hear the sounds of guns shots and war, as many in other countries do.

For me this is a day to be thankful and realize how lucky I am, how lucky we are, as a nation. And I thank God.

And every day, I should do my bet to be my best, because by miracle and luck, I am in this country, the greatest country in the world.  And I should not take anything for granted. Life is delicate and fragile.  And today is not a dress rehearsal.

Life is short. Make it good. Make it memorable. Make it worth it.

The Routine Order

We all have things that seem to be the bane of our existence. They gym, the dreadmill, I mean treadmill.  The dentist…and for me, routine.  I am a writer, creative and do not like routine.  Until I take a closer look at my life.  Growing up, my mother believed very much in routine, that this is what children needed in order to be healthy.  In addition to three square meals, lots of love and some discipline, we also had a lot of routine.  We had dinner with a certain time frame and went to bed by a certain hour.  We had so long to do homework, chores and piano practice.  She said that routine could bring order into an otherwise chaotic world for a child.  And indeed we did thrive.

But in my adult life, I just seem to do well without schedules.  I do what needs to be done when it needs doing, and do my best to manage time.  And I am constantly running 15-20 minutes late. But lately I am seeing more value in this thing called routine of which she spoke. And I think it might just save my sanity.

Since Dad moved in life has been on the hectic side, running from doctor appointment to doctor appointment, learning to be a caretaker of an 80 year-old and everything that comes with it.  It can be so overwhelming at times.  So what do you do when life gets that overwhelming and big that you can’t seems to see over the top of it?  Routine.

There is comfort in routine, in knowing what comes next and when. It allows for you to free up your time and space to be creative and concentrate on what is really important. It allows you to follow a natural order.  And when you think of the science of it, it makes perfect sense.  Even the human body has schedules.  The heart beats on schedule, we do not have to think about it.  We breathe on an automatic schedule. Our blood and lungs work on schedule and to their tasks and we do not have to think about it.  We go on with our lives.

And that is what I hope to accomplish with this new order, so to speak.  Dad will have a pretty set schedule – approximately when to get up, I will fix his breakfast, then when physical and occupational therapy happen, when his companion care comes over to help with tasks or run errands, when to go to the senior center to meet friends and be social. When he doesn’t have to constantly figure out what comes next, what he is going to do and why, constantly coming up for a reason for existence without my mother, then maybe he can relax and just enjoy.

And maybe I can relax a bit too.  Certain things will be on autopilot, so to speak. I can focus on my work, my relationship, friendships and such. Gears can be shifted to I can just be a good daughter, good friend and co-worker.  This routine may be just what the doctor ordered to get life back to manageable.

And maybe the secret to order is being flexible enough.  Flexible enough to work within the bounds of routine but still allow a loose schedule. With exercise we much stretch ourselves, our muscles, to give a little. Life can be messy. And if we are puritanical in either direction of too much schedule and routine or nothing at all, then things can spiral. We feel overwhelmed and out of order.

So I am looking forward to this new schedule that sets the pace for the new year.  I am looking forward to being able to concentrate on what is truly important while the everyday things take care of themselves.  It takes a lot of hard work to put a routine in place, but we are almost there.  And in that order, we can make a life of spectacular.

Finally

We did it. We survived our first Christmas without you. It was hard. Then it was OK. And there were moments of true joy. And then moments where my heart felt it would burst. Through it all you were in our hearts, and I think whispering around us, in the warm breeze, in the sounds of the birds and in the spirit of Christmas. I could feel you close, even if not able to touch you. We will be OK. You made sure we were strong. We will continue to move forward every day and make you proud by finding beauty in this world and many reasons to smile. Love and miss you always Mom. – Me

We all have hard times that we have to get through.  And some are harder than others. This was a tough one.  This was a big one.  What do you do when these times come about?  I don’t know.  My guess, or at least what seems to work for me, is just putting my head down and get through it.  I am not sure that there is a formula for getting through the hard parts.  I know that is not the popular thing to say, as many writers have made millions writing thousands of books on how to get through it.  The secret – It’s just time.  You put one foot in front of the other and take many, many baby steps.  And after time, a lot of time, you look back and see how many miles further you have traveled.

I received many messages of love and support about how hard this first Christmas without Mom would be,  And it was; there were moments that were brutal. I have always said that my life is like a sitcom, but this Christmas was more like a dramedy…Dad took a bad fall and had to be in a rehab facility building up his strength during Christmas.  But we were allowed to sign him bust him out for Christmas.  Never did I think I would be spring my Dad out of rehab for Christmas, but I live for adventure. And I have never seen anyone so excited to be home.

Christmas Eve, after everyone went to bed, I sat on the couch sobbing while looking at the beautiful Christmas tree, wishing, hoping, aching, for my Mother.  I cried for everything I have lost and would never have again.  I mourned the things that we would never do together, my mother and me.  The gifts not bought, cards not given, and adventures not to be had. And I fell asleep for a bit, there on the couch, by the tree with so many of her ornaments.  And I thought I felt her arms around me, heard her voice whisper on my ear. And I woke up feeling very loved.

And there were moments when Joy came in, like the sun breaking through the clouds.  Christmas morning came and there were gifts and smiles and so much love.  Seeing Dad excited, looking at all wrapping and bows and ribbons.  Unwrapping everything with childlike enthusiasm.  And my wonderful man, our second Christmas together, much different than we thought it would be. Watching them both get gifts that they loved. And there were Christmas carols, and the Christmas movies, and Christmas stockings, and then…Christmas dinner.

And I swear I could hear her laughing and see her smiling.  She loved Christmas. And at that moment I knew.  We were going to be OK.  We had finally turned a corner in this thing called grief.  We got thought it, we survived. We laughed and cried and remembered.  And at the end of the day, we were all OK.  And that’s the thing about love and grief.  Even when you feel like it is going to kill you, it really doesn’t.

Today it has been six months since Mom went into the hospital for her procedure.  I met her at the hospital to stay with her so she wouldn’t be alone.  The time spent with her then in priceless.  And we just had Christmas.  And finally, FINALLY, the sadness is not overwhelming. And I think she would be proud.

I looked at pictures of my mother from several years ago when she was still happy and healthy.  She was so beautiful. Always smiling with that mischievous look in her eye.  I had forgotten what that smile looked like, she had been tired for so long by the time she passed.  I choose to remember her that way – beautiful, happy, smiling, free.

And finally I can smile.

Season of Thoughts

To Wear it well

We must let go of the life that we planned so as to accept the life that is waiting for us. – Joseph Campbell

This is the time of year of festivities. Parties, gifts and resolutions.  And it is usually about this time of year that in addition to enjoying all that this happy season will bring, I start thinking about what I want to accomplish next year.

Most of the time, the things on my list are the usual:  Travel more, spend less, smile more, loose that 10 lbs that has been on my hips for the last 5 years. For this next year though it is quite different.  My goal for next year is quite simple: To wear it well.

I want simple things to not take so much energy.  Things like putting on my pants, going through daily routines…breathing.  To put it quite simply – grief is bitch.  Grief is like that bad roommate you can’t get rid of.

But the fact is that Grief will be with me for quite a while. So I must learn to wear it well.

What exactly does that mean?  It means that You hold your head high, smile anyway and get on with it.  It doesn’t mean you still don’t feel it in every part of every bone, you just don’t let it wear you, you wear it. Right now, I feel like Grief is cutting off circulation, because it is a very ill-fitting outfit that is tight in all the wrong places and loose in all the wrong spots.

From all the research I have done, grief never really leaves you. So I have to learn to wear it well. And defiantly better than I have.

Ultimately, I would like to make this grief a place from where love can grow and prosper.  I would like to make it a beautiful garden of compassion and goodness. I want to do more than wear it well; if it has to be with me for my life, then I want it to make me a better person. I just don’t know how to get there yet.

Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom. – Rumi

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The Smell of It

As a parent, it’s my responsibility to equip my child to do this – to grieve when grief is necessary and to realize that life is still profoundly beautiful and worth living despite the fact that we inevitably lose one another and that life ends, and we don’t know what happens after death. –  Sam Harris

It is funny the things that you miss.  And as cliché as it sounds, the laundry smelled so good when Mom did it. I never thought I would miss that smell so much. I cherish anything I find of her original laundry.   And I finally found out her secret.  I found her stash of fabric softener and smell good stuff.  The one problem?

I cannot find it in any stores here in the Atlanta area.  Seriously…in a city of millions…I can’t locate any of it.  Dad and I are both searching for it.  Where did she get this stuff?  Did she ship it in from another country?  Or planet?  Because this stuff smells like Love.

It is somewhere, and somehow I will find it and get as many bottles of it as possible.  Love in a bottle cannot be overrated, neither can the magical smell of laundry.

Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other. – Abraham Lincoln

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Hard Candy Christmas

Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life. – Anne Roiphe

Tis the season for all the holiday festivities. It is also a very bad time for those who are grieving the loss of a loved one.  And while the grief cannot be fixed or erased, we can, if we choose, still find the beauty in every day.  We can, if we choose, appreciate the happiness and joy around us, and maybe even have some of it seep in.

And so it goes this holiday season.  The Christmas tree is going up this weekend.  A big real tree.  I’ve never had a real Christmas tree but have been told that they smell wonderful.  And there will be Christmas music and carols.  And lots of Christmas lights.  We are going to see a large light display, complete with hot chocolate and roasting marshmallows by a fire afterward. The house will have a lot of Christmas decorations, some old that have been passed down to me, and some new.

This Christmas will be hard, and that cannot be changed.  It cannot be fixed.  But. But, we do not have to drown in it either.  We can still smile through tears, celebrate through grief and see joy in the world. A broken heart still beats. The world still turns and life goes on.

So, bring on the eggnog, Christmas carols and fires.  Let’s light the house up with Christmas displays.  Let the stockings be hung, the dancing Santa’s dance and the angels sing.  No doubt my mother is one of those angels now.  May we hear her voice this Christmas, and all others to come.

I think faith is incredibly important because you will become overwhelmed with what’s happening and you will have waves of grief, but when you turn to your faith, I believe God will give you waves of grace to get through it. – Joel Osteen

 

This Thanksgiving

Change. It is a fact of life. Everyone, at some point, must accept it, learn to deal with it, adapt to it.  But that can very so very hard.

Usually I write about everything I am thankful for in the Month of November – a new list every day.  This Thanksgiving that seems too strange. I do look around and acknowledge the many blessings.  But I am not sure how to act really.  I am very thankful Dad is still here, thankful for my wonderful boyfriend, the fact that we have been blessed to have such a wonderful home and are building a life of love. That I have such wonderful friends who are there for me and love me, that I have a job I love at a great company.

And that I had 42 wonderful Thanksgivings with my mother.  That I was there in her last moments. And for all the wonderful talks and whispers and moments we shared, mother and daughter.  When she looked at me in the hospital and said “I know you truly love me.”  When she smiled and said “I know what that means.”  When I read the letter and notes she wrote labeled “Don’t open unless I am dead”…and how truly funny they were.  Thankful for the way she always knew just what to say, and when to say it, to make me smile and feel better.  Thankful for the taco soup and fresh cut corn that she froze, just for us, knowing she was going to pass. Still taking care of us, even now.

This Thanksgiving will be very different from the ones in the past.  Every Thanksgiving has been at my parent’s place.  Even when I lived far away, the trip would be made to make sure I was there with the rest of the family.  There was always so much food because Mom loved cooking for all of us.  The exception was last year when I begged to have the holiday feast at my place.  Mom and Dad reluctantly agreed and made the trip up to the big city.  It would turn out to be the last with my Mom.  My sister and her three boys were there too.  I treasure those memories.

This is the first year in my life that Mom will not be here for Thanksgiving, or Christmas.  This change is not welcome, but it is as it is and so I must adapt.  Thanksgiving is coming whether Mom is here or not.  And so this year we will spend Thanksgiving around M’s mother’s table. I am thankful for their generosity of taking us in. And no doubt there will be lots of love around that table. Truth be told Dad and I are at a bit of a loss this Thanksgiving…and holiday season in general.

But that is the thing about change – it opens up new opportunities. New ways of thinking about and doing things, and new possibilities.  This Thanksgiving may have a melancholy feel, but it can still be special.  This Thanksgiving is about love. And love is always a good thing.  Because love feeds the Human Spirit, fills in all of our cracks and makes us stronger.

What’s Cooking

We all have those challenges in life where you wonder how on earth can it all get done?  One of the biggest struggles in modern life is what’s for dinner?  How do you cook a balanced meal most nights, have it tasty, fresh and not take forever to prep and cook?  After working all day?  We are currently trying to figure this out.  So is a large part of the rest of the country as well.  All the planning it takes, prepping, and actual time cooking.  How to make sure everything is done and hot at the same time when each thing cooking takes a different amount of time to prep and cook?  How to cook and plan a meal for this this night, leftovers that night, the other dish the next night…so that nothing is repetitive and boring – oh and still nutritious and yummy?

Having an aging parent living with you, who is going through chemo and who has special dietary needs adds to the challenge. Growing up my Mom cooked for us almost every night. And when we had 6 foster kids, she cooked almost every night still.  We always had three balanced meals a day.  I have no idea how she did it.  Actually I do –  First, she loved taking care of others, so it gave her a tremendous amount of joy.  Second she didn’t work.  That is not knocking those who stay home – quite the opposite.  One of the most important things you can do for your family is cook, clean and take care of them.  And it is a lot of hard work.  Thus the challenge.  How to take care of the family as well as you could if you didn’t work, when you do work?

My boyfriend and I, who both work, are trying to figure out how to take care of things in and around the house as well as those who don’t work.  And the truth is – we can’t.  Those who stay home and take care of everything are nothing short of miracle workers.  There are two of us and we, combined, cannot do what my mother did, and there was only one of her.  (But then my mother was magic)

Maybe the trick is in addition to doing it together, you have to decide on a level of un-doneness. Yes, I did just make up that word. What that means is that since we do both work, and we are not miracle workers, we cannot possibly to everything.  So, if we cook great meals 4 nights a week, then eat left overs, sandwiches, soups or pizza the other nights, maybe that is enough.  Add some healthy snacks in there and maybe that is the extent of what we can get done.  Because there is still laundry, still dishes, still vacuuming, still trying to exercise, still quality family times and still trying to have a little smidgen of a social life.

Maybe finding an acceptable level of un-doneness is the secret to keeping the love as well.  There might be dust on the mantle, but if love burns bright in the fireplace, then a warm home cannot be far behind. And that’s what’s cooking at the Burch Manor.

14,000 Miles

Regular car maintenance, we all do it.  Unless we want to be stranded on the side of the road because the engine exploded, we get the oil changes, tires rotated, fluids topped off.  Just like the DMV, it is a necessary evil that must be endured.  I am lucky that the place I take my car is pretty honest and they know I know a bit about cars (thanks Dad).  But even I was surprised when the technician asked “14,000 miles since your last oil change in June?!?  Where have you been driving?”

You can travel a lifetime in fourteen thousand miles. In those miles I have traveled several.  What started out as simply assisting Mom during recovery from a minor procedure ended up as so much more.  And that seems several lifetimes ago already.

In 14,000 miles I have traveled to heartaches door and back.  I have carried more love and compassion than all the luggage in the world could hold.  Each mile, each inch, each centimeter, has paralleled each beat of my heart.

I have traveled to confusion, and denial and desperation and fear and loss.  I have visited darkness and knelt humbly at faith’s doorstep.  I have sat, hunch over, crying, sobbing, begging, pleading, admitting that I don’t know how to do this, how to watch my mother pass, how to be strong enough to be the leader, how to be what is needed for this task. I have prayed for wisdom, and grace, and compassion and understanding, and patience; sometimes failing, sometimes not.

In those miles I have bargained, promised, negotiated, fought, and bled my soul.  I researched the best course, sacrificed sleep because it was not important, and seen acceptance in the nurses expression when they looked into my eyes and knew the term “visiting hours” did not apply to me. I have prayed that as much as I love her, please, please let her not suffer.  I have broken my own heart into minuscule shards, trembling, as I prayed for it to be peaceful.

I have seen compassion and true heartbreak watching my father.  And I have witnessed the truest love, watching them the last time they interacted.

In 14,000 miles, I have seen the most beautiful and striking rainbows, as rays of hope break through the clouds. I have seen eyes look into mine with love and compassion, shoulders that truly are strong enough for me to cry on, arms that are strong enough to protect me, and gentle enough to be shelter. In those miles, I have seen how blessed I am to have a wonderful man and partner who is willing to be there, even when I am so terrified that I cannot stand to be in my own company. And then seen him stay and stroke my hair so I sleep in peace.  I have carried whispers and secrets and writings, and journals, and anger, and fear, and love and joy and everything that is life in those miles.

There have been miles of boxes packed. moved and unpacked.  There have been countless sleepless nights, up planning and figuring, writing and praying.  There have been men payed, volunteers asked, friends talked to and letters written.  Interviews and jobs declined and accepted, tasked completed and left undone. There have been pictures taken and voice mails saved, phones traded and flowers smelled.  There have been countless meals cooked and eaten, many bottles of wine and water and coffee.  There have been long goodbyes and short visits, lengthy conversations and easy decisions and heavy burdens. There have been cards and songs, and work and play. And love, most of all.

Fourteen thousand miles is a short distance for where I have traveled and returned. And when you think about all of that in 14,000 miles, it is humbling to think of how many miles are traveled in our time on Earth, and by how many travelers.

And in the miles ahead, I see that the road is rich with hope and dreams, and love, and kindness and all the good that can be held around the next bend. And it makes me wonder what the next miles have in store.  Just like looking at the blank pages of a new journal, I am inquisitive about the future. Even when the road is long and hard, we must never lose our hope, our wanderlust, our curiosity, our sense of wander or our optimism. We must always strive to learn and grow and be better.

Yes, I saw all of this flash before me, in an instant when the technician asked that simple question.  I just said “I had a family illness that required a lot of driving.” He smiled kindly and said he was sorry to hear. Then he rang me up and went on his way down his road, continuing his journey.  And so it goes.

Pace Yourself

In this world of bigger is better, more is best and the more you can accomplish and cram in one day the more important you are…it is important to pace yourself.

There is so much to this week, even with things slowing down a bit. And I struggle not to be overwhelmed and not to be tempted to unpack and organise trough the night.  Not everything has to be done today or tonight.  Indeed, one must have a good pace in order to complete the race.

My schedule has been non stop since early April, maybe March.  Dealing with Mom’s degrading health, planning the sibling reunion, having the reunion, Mom’s death, moving Dad in with us, organizing the move into the bigger house, unpacking, getting ready for moving all of Dad’s things in, and getting settled in a new job – in addition to family issues. It’s a lot!

And I am feeling burned out.  I am struggling to not burn out.

What is the solution?  I don’t know.  What I can say is that tonight, I must pace myself.  Tonight I put our relationship first.  Salmon steaks, wine and some smiles and plans.  Your must make sure your priorities are in line and conducive to a healthy, happy life. And that takes effort.  It takes effort to pull away from the brink of burnout to make your partner know that they are important and that you appreciate them.  It takes pacing yourself to make the time necessary for care and nurturing that relationship.

It is so important right now, with all the changes, that I take care of those I love, including myself.

And so it goes tonight.  And maybe the answer is the pace of it all.  Maybe it is in slowing down, taking a breath, saying a prayer and making the effort that we find ourselves anew.

THIS

Life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again.  And in between the amazing and the awful its ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful. – LR Knost

The ups and downs of life. We can’t avoid them.  And honestly would we really want to? While there are times when we all wish we could fast forward, would we really want a life with just ups and no downs?  I don’t think so.

This was a rough summer for me.  And I am still healing.  But this hard time, this heartache, it makes me think back to the wonderful memories of when everything was perfect.  I hold onto those memories so tight, knowing this will not last forever.

While packing up for the move I found cards my mother sent me during other rough times.  And those cards felt like a wonderful blanket of love and warmth, with the things she wrote still holding true.

THIS. This is all part of life.  We cannot appreciate to the good without also experiencing the bad.  I remember reading a book called “The Prophet” when I was 19.  Totally changed my life.  One of the passages states only that which brings you great joy can bring you great sorrow. Truth be told, I will gladly grieve the loss to be able to say how much joy I had with my mother.  I will gladly cry and miss her now, for the fact that I had her in my life for 43 years.

And that is just life.  The good, the bad, the ugly and the all of it. It is the all of it that makes life so rich, so deep, so mosaic and so riveting. It’s the mistakes, missed opportunities, wrong roads, paths less traveled, the unexpected moments that take our breath away and truly make life worth living.

The best stories and memories aren’t when everything goes as planned.  We find ourselves and our joy oftentimes in the most assuming and surprising places along the way.   We find our life in the spaces of the hills and valleys of our heart and the tales it tells. We find our love in not only the happiness, but the sorrows.

And in the end, when I look back, I hope it’s as magical, as memorizing and as beautiful  as I imagine.

We just have to hold on, pray, have faith and breath. I wish I had some deep and fantastic thing to write about it. But the simple truth is we just have to live it. We just have to live THIS.

Boundaries for Peace

Most people things that a happy, peaceful life comes easy.  But in my experience, it does not.  It takes a lot of work to make sure that all is well and happy and healthy in your life.  Just like exercise and keeping your body fit, life sometimes requires some work in order to keep things in shape.

You must be very vigilant to make sure that you keep out people and situations out that will cause drama.  When you don’t, the result can be a lot of energy spent dealing with destructive, emotional situations that leave you exhausted.   And constant drama can not only leave you drained, but also emotionally unhealthy.

There is a saying about keeping your circle small. I have found that to be true. And every now and then you have to let people go when they drain you of your time and energy by dragging in unnecessary drama.  Even if you love them, even if they are dear friends, even if they are family.  Sometimes the best thing is to just walk away.

I did this recently and the result has been actually having the time and emotional bandwidth to heal.  Mom’s death and all the changes surrounding that have been tough.  And everything has happened very quickly.  So I had to choose, either my emotional health, or them.  My emotional health won.

Healthy boundaries are a necessity for a peaceful life.  You must have lines that others are not allowed to cross.  Anything that disturbs your peace of mind or makes you feel bad, anything that does not serve you or your purpose or your joy, must go.

And now I can grieve properly – in a safe, loving environment that fosters emotional health.  I can truly concentrate on what is best for my family as we move forward.  I can make sure that this move goes as smoothly as possible.  That this home, our home, is a good space that is a shelter from all that is bad.  And bottom line is that I am too busy and have too many things on my plate to deal with such foolishness.  I just can’t be bothered.

I could not do that if I still had those situations and people interfering.  So don’t be afraid to be selfish, don’t be afraid to stand up and do what is best for you, for your family and for your life.  Today is not a dress rehearsal.  Don’t be afraid to take control and be a supporter of boundaries for peace.

To Her

What is she looking for, I wonder?  When she looks at my blog, at the same ones that she always reads? Is she looking for comfort?  Or inspiration to leave?  Has he done to her what he did to me?  Is she trying to get the courage? Is she looking for a clue?  Why it is those entries?  Except, I know.

This is to you, yes you, his new.  Don’t be afraid to leave.  You deserve better than to have someone speak to you that way, treat you that way, hurt you that way…hit you that way.  Yes, what I say is true, all of it. And there is life after, love after, all after it’s over. Two others have gone before you, and there is enough of a record to stop it.  If that is the road you choose, you will not walk alone.

 

In the Silence of Your Absence

In the silence of your absence
I am acutely aware of the space
Between the raindrops
And the heartbeats of each minute

I have deep knowledge of
The distance a whisper
Can travel in a quick breath
On the thick summer air

In the silence of your absence
I have felt, with keen understanding
The depth of love and pain
And loss and hope

I have heard and follow
The cries of the doves
And the joy of the butterflies
As their wings work their magic

In the silence of your absence
Though deafening as it may be,
I comprehend the bittersweet
Celebration of all the love you left behind.

And I recognize the calling
In the songs of the hummingbird
And I distinctly hear your voice
As the silence is broken.

Ada Burch
9/13/2016

And Then it Was Two

Someone asked how Dad and I were doing today. This day, the 2^nd month anniversary of Mom’s death. Two Months.  One can live a lifetime in two months.

Most of that day is a blur to me.  I remember parts and pieces.  I remember painting Mom’s fingernails and gently brushing her hair the night before, and that morning.  I remember gently talking to her about how much I loved her and about my favorite childhood memories.  Like the Alfonso’s break dancing kit gift debacle.  And when she read Little House on the Prairie book series to me.  And when she would brush and fix my hair in the morning when I was a child.  When she taught me all those childhood songs that I still remember, how she decorated my bedroom when I was a teenager and made it seafoam green…and how I really did not appreciate that as much as I should have.  How she sat with me through each and every heartache and break up.  And teaching me how to cook and make her famous milk sausage gravy…and so many memories.

I remember how I held her hand and watched her breathing get more and more shallow.  Even when you know it’s coming, you are never prepared to see someone take their last breath.  And I remember the lights flickering three times after I said “I love you…”

And then there was talking to everyone, making arrangements. Making decisions and taking care of everything. I know it happened, and I was the one to do those things, but I really don’t remember.

Grief is not as I expected.  I thought it would be a huge brick in the pit of my stomach.  But it’s not.  It is more like an acute awareness that she is not here.  It is the extreme knowledge of the Last time I felt her arms around me. It is the silence of her absence. And it is deafening.

But my answer to my dear friend who asked was simply – We are getting better at moving forward.

Because we are. Every day we get better at honoring her by creating something beautiful.  We live for her to look down and smile.  We pray for God to hold  us – and her – in his big hands. We hold our breath for the signs and whispers.  We look up and feel the sun, see the clouds, celebrate the rainbows, feel the rain and notice the magnificence of the world. A life beautiful through honoring her, her memory, how she wanted us and raised us to be. A life beautiful by creating a safe, peaceful space that is a sacred sanctuary, protected and kept close.

We move forward by honoring her memory and being true to ourselves and those we love.  We continue forward with the move to the new house, and creating something special.  We weave together the fabric of this life with every heartbeat.

The House on The Hill

It is always exciting when you move to a new house, everything but the packing.  And Sunday it was time to take Dad by the new house.  He looked around and inspected everything with his precision eye…making sure everything was in line and right.

The basement, the most important thing and what he was the most excited about.  And he went down. It is not perfect, but we can make it work.  We can make it work with his workshop, with a few moderation.  Add some light fixtures, get some extension chords. And there is plenty of room not only for his workshop, but for storage as well.

He likes his new room. It is big and has enough space for whatever he wants to put in there.  He can have a little office as well.  The deck is being worked on, and will be ready by the time we move in.

It is not perfect, but it is great.  And it will be a great place for us.The house we are in now has been wonderful – the Rescue House.  It rescued me from me from the House of Mold, it rescued my boyfriend and became a place of love, and now it rescued my Dad and has become his home too.

The new house will be a place of new beginnings.  And it is my privilege to have Dad with us, starting this new life with us.  I am a lucky woman. And I feel Mom smiling.

Life in Imperfections

I am learning that within our own imperfections we find the greatest truths, unconditional love, appreciation and a mirror of who we really hope to be on the inside on the good and Bad days. – Jennifer Jo Clark Singleton

We all have those times in life were we just have to do it. There is a reason why that slogan is such a hit.  It is especially appropriate after a tragedy or major setback in life.  When we feel hopeless, defeated, hurt, scared, sad, depressed, discourage, unsure…we just have to get up and do it.

I remember a lesson I learned from my mother.  She had a very bad back and suffered terrible chronic pain.  She was extremely strong willed though and worked through it.  The pain would put most people in bed…and I remember asking her why she didn’t just take a break or lie down?  With a smile and that common sense way of thinking for which she was famous, she told me that her back was going to hurt whether she got up or not, so she might as get up, and get busy. Wow. Now that she is no longer with us, I want to carry her on lessons of strength and endurance in the face of hard time.

The fact is that we will probably still feel scared, discouraged, sad, or whatever, but we just have to do it anyway.  At some point you have to decide to reach deep down, where the soul meets the mind, down where each heartbeat mingles with our breath, and pull ourselves up.  It’s going to hurt anyway, so we might as well just do it.

And so it goes.  There is much to do at this moment.  So much change, heartache, work, love, fear, truth, honor, sadness, and life.  Adjusting to having an aging parent in the house, making sure he has everything he needs and wants, packing and organizing two moves, working a full time job, trying to cook, clean and do everyday things, keeping up with friends and family… I have no idea how I am going to do it, but I just have to, because failure is not an option.

But I know I can do it, because my mother could do anything, and I am my mother’s daughter.  The pity party is over – and that is another thing she taught me.  Have a pity party, but just make sure it doesn’t last too long.  Because life and it’s demands do not stop just because you are having a bad day, or week, or month or even year.  So you better figure it out.

I can hear her voice, gently whispering to me, as I get up in the morning.  She knows I can do it.  I will not be perfect at this.  I will stumble, fall and even fail sometimes, no matter how hard I try.  And in my imperfections, I have found this truth.  In her imperfections I have found that unconditional love and faith.  I have found that mirror of who I am now and who I want to be on the good and bad days. And I am blessed to have a wonderful people around me who will stand by firm.  They are my roots.

We can also choose in what spirit in which we move forward.  We can choose to rise above the drama and pain, or let it drag us down.  We can choose to do things with a loving and cheerful heart, or we can be bitter and angry. I choose the former in both sets.  Dolly Parton Sings in her hit Hard Candy Christmas “I’m barely getting through tomorrow/But still I won’t let/Sorrow get me way down/Me, I’ll be just fine and dandy.” And I will be just fine.

I think that starts with acceptance. It is going to be hard. It is going to test my limits and strength.  But’s it’s going to hurt anyway so I might as well get up and get busy.  Things are going to be unbalanced right now, so I will just grab what time for myself that I can, and just get through the rest. Maybe the key is finding the unbalance you can live with temporarily. And the bad times are always temporary; it won’t be like this six months from now, a year from now, ten years from now.

You can pack and cry at the same time; you can move mountains while still wounded. You just have to do it. And so I will. How…I am not sure.  I guess we will figure that out along the way. And in my imperfections I will find life.

Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together. – Elizabeth Taylor

Changing Seasons

The air is starting to crisp.  I for one am ready for the coolness of Fall.  It has been a cruel summer, and I am looking forward to the kinder nights of the changing season.

The change will not be without challenges though, as a two moves, what would have been my parents 49^th anniversary and also the holidays are all on the calendar.  But Fall offers a break from all the heavy topics of summer, and a chance to break away for a moment and breathe.

Fall offers sitting out on the back patio next to the fire pit, maybe even the roasting of a marshmallow or two. It offers a slowing down of life and taking time to enjoy the air.  It offers apple picking and talks of new plans and a new life that comes with a new season, a new house and a new situation.

We made it through the summer, working hard and getting through.  We all need a bit of a break, to breathe, to smile, to laugh. To remember that there is life after tragedy.  To grab a good time and make a memory or two along our journey.  To make new traditions, while honoring the old.  To hug and hold each other, and to really know that together we can do anything.  There is safety in numbers and we are stronger and better together, our little unit; my Dad, my boyfriend and me. 

With love, patience, Grace (pray I have it), and Faith, we can do anything. There are other siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles and dear friends to add, all making for a great supportive extended family. Why worry about one, when there are so many with which to celebrate the new season?

I just want to surround my father with so much love that it makes the loss and absence easier. I want to block out all drama, all negative people, all dialog not constructive to create a protective order. 

I am ready for cool breezes to cleanse the sweat and tears of summer.  Ready for the foundation of the next chapter to be poured as we build something beautiful and honest and real. Yes, I am ready for Fall.

Grace Under Pressure

How did my Mother do it, I wonder?  How did she manage the family and all the activities? When she was here, she was the one who took care of everything and everyone when they needed something.  Now that torch has been passed to me. And I think I am failing miserably at it.

For example, my sister closest in age has refused to help with moving our parents belonging out of the family compound into the new house where Dad will live.  When I asked if she would help her answer was “Dad can handle moving by himself, he is not a child.”  I don’t know of a single adult who can handle a move completely alone, including her.  In addition to that, she has many things of her own still in the house that she is expecting Dad, or someone other than her, to pack, load, move and store for her.  Seems to me like that takes a lot of nerve to expect. And it makes my blood boil as I see the hurt in Dad’s eyes, and his panicked and defensive tone as he says he doesn’t need her, any one’s help.

I am not a violent person, but the urge to throw something large and heavy at her was hard to resist.  But I did, barely. How exactly did my mother do it?

When you are placed in a leadership position, there is a tremendous amount of responsibility that goes along with it. That responsibility also gives you certain rights or privileges.  For example, I was there when my mother passed, that sister was not. The cross that my mother was wearing when she passed, hangs around my neck now. That cross my dear mother gave me, I took and placed around her neck so she would have a cross to wear for her journey. And when my mother’s journey was complete, the cross once again hung around my neck from hers. A beautiful gift given, an intimate moment shared between mother and daughter.   That detail gives me the privilege to tell my sister she should have been there herself if she wanted anything different. The responsibility is to try to have Grace..to have justice tempered by mercy. I am pretty bad at that part. 

And I try so hard to remember my mother’s teachings of Grace and patience.  But that is oh so hard when I see my father being hurt. I want to be fiercely protective of him and tell her, in no uncertain terms, what I think if her selfishness, her refusal to work with us, her refusal to communicate or plan anything from his move, to his birthday to plans for the holidays.

We have all heard of a divorced parent whose ex-spouse makes joint custody of the children a nightmare.  Just because it is an adult parent, and not a child, does not make it OK to be an uncooperative ass.  And my mother dealt with this for almost 30 years, this sister causing problems. It should have been expected then, but I thought it might be different because of the circumstances.

And I wonder how she did it, my beautiful mother, because I am drowning. How did she keep her cool when selfishness came to the door and inside the house? Because I want to come out swinging.

When someone so selfish comes into your life, it completely alters the energy and feel of the room.  You can feel the air being sucked out of the entire space, as they are a black hole that devours anything positive and good.  It leaves you feeling exhausted as you try to feed their insatiable hunger.  But nothing you do for them will be enough; they will always want more, expect more and refuse more and more to do anything.  They are entitled, after all.

But you cannot defecate on those who love you and expect them to stick around.

And I realize maybe the solution is in walking away. From the drama, from the pain, from trying to be nice to someone who has no use for anything Burch but yet demands everything to be given. And Maybe the Grace and Patience my mother had comes not from believing in my sister, but from having faith that God will provide regardless.  God works miracles every single day.  Somehow this move, this time, this holiday season will work out without my sister, without her drama and her selfishness.  You cannot force someone to care, but you can move forward without them in your life.

And in letting go and leaving her behind, maybe therein lies the Grace. And also therein lies the Peace

Looking Up

There are times in everyone’s life where all we can do is look up.  In looking up there is faith and hope.  Sometimes, we have to put our heads down and work through whatever it is, go get through or to reach a goal.  And then we find ourselves looking up at the sun, or feeling the cleansing rain on our face.  Looking up means noticing all that is around, not only above. It is saying a prayer, giving thanks and taking a breath.

There is a conversation you never dreams of having with your loved one.  The “It’s ok if you are tired, you can let go” talk when a family member is too ill.  I had that conversation with my mother while she was under sedation and she could not really respond.  The nurse had given her the shot before I had a chance to have a real conversation, so this was the best I could do.  I know she could hear me, so I stroked her hair and gently told her that I know she had been in pain and was so very tired, so if she didn’t feel l like fighting, that it was Ok to let go.  She had our permission.

I sat at her bedside, looking down watching her while rested and reassured her that while I wanted her to be around forever, it was OK if she was too tired and I understood. And loved her more than words could ever say.  I told her about the prognosis – that her body was just too weak to fight the infection and recover.  The truth that if she did recover, it would take months of rehabilitation to get back to normal.  That Everyone would be OK, even though we would miss her more terribly and deeply that we could ever imagine.

I think it is one of the hardest conversations to have with a parent or any loved one.  Gut-wrenching and physically difficult, it is what you do when you love someone and want what is best for them. But it goes against every selfish desire you have, because you naturally want your loved ones with you for as long as possible. But not at the cost of their comfort and quality of life.  So you break your own heart and let go, letting them let go too.

After she passed, I said my final goodbye, taking her hand and telling her one more time that I loved her so very much. When I stood up to leave, the lights flickered softly three times. A gentle whisper of “I love you.”  And I looked up and knew it was her.

As we move forward without her here, there has been much to do.  Getting the old house ready for sale, cleaning, arranging, packing.  We go out to take breaks and sit on the back deck facing the water.  Feeling the breeze, watching the flowers dance. And I look up and see fireflies dancing and playing right in front of me.  And I know it is another gentle whisper.

And there is unpacking the van in our current home, taking Dad’s things out and putting them inside for him, making sure he has all he needs to keep him warm and feeling loved and not so alone.  Unloading 40 houseplants, finding a place for them, in the sun, or partial sun, or full shade so that they flourish as much as they can.  And I look up…and see a double rainbow after I asked for a sign. Another gentle whisper, this time captured on my phone.

After dad and I were down dealing with the coin collection, there was a penny at my door, the year of my birth. And I looked up, thankful for the whisper. Truth be told, there have been too many signs, signals and whispers to mention.  Every day, another whisper, just as I have asked moving forward. A wonderful reminder that she is around, looking over us.  I hope she is proud of me, when I look up at the sky, at her in the beautiful cloud formations.  I hope she likes the way I try to carry her legacy of love, warmth and laughter.  I hope she is patient with me learning how do balance everything she did so effortlessly and does not frown too harshly when my patience and Grace and running short. I hope we she is pleased as she looks down and we look up.

The fact is that moving on is not possible, because it insinuates that you close the door on that part of your life.  And that is simply not possible when missing a parent. You miss them always. But you can move forward, learning how to wade through and make new paths while still honoring and keeping the old ones.  And even the old paths will not ever be the same; but different isn’t always bad and change doesn’t have to be negative. You can build a beautiful life on the grounds and foundation of your parents.

And you never have to stop looking up.

The Train Tracks

In the past 9 weeks, since June 28^th, I have put a little over 6,000 miles on my car.  When you are the only local child that can drive to take care of parent issues, you tend to rack up the miles on your car when there is distance between you and the parents.  Both my car and I are exhausted.

June 28^th I drive down to meet my parents at the hospital to watch over Mom while she was in the hospital and help with recovery afterward.  She never recovered.  And then it was a flurry driving back and forth between Atlanta and the small southwest Georgia home where they lived. And every weekend, I have driven down to help sort things out.  Every weekend but two.

My Dad wants to go down every weekend to fix things like burned out light bulbs, outlet covers and things like that.  The house is for sale and he is convinced no one will buy the compound if one single light bulb is burned out or if they do not like the outlet covers.

So, when in this situation and absolutely exhausted and overwhelmed, how do you put your parent on restriction?  How do I look at my Dad and say “Dad, I love you, but you are grounded.  You are not allowed to leave town until there is actually a problem with the house”?  Because I need a break.  I need to be home for a weekend to do laundry, because I need to sort through Mom’s things that you have brought up here, because I need to sleep…because I just need to take a breath and NOT drive 1,000 miles in a weekend.

When you are feeling overwhelmed, part of the cure is to set firm boundaries so you can begin to get things under control.  How does that work when it’s your parents, and they need things too?  I guess it is the same as if he were a child.  And that is what it feels like a bit.  So how to go through and take care of myself and him and the boyfriend and the job and the house and the cooking and the cleaning and the looking for a new larger place and the everything else and still handle my own grief?  I am tired just writing it.

Most of the time when life gets hard, my answer has been to put my head down and work hard and just do it – whatever it is that needs to be done. But the loss of a parent is very different.  The very person I would call to inspire me, talk to me when exhausted and just give a kind word is gone.  So what now?

I am not sure.  I have found that being thrown out of my comfort zone also means not knowing a thing about what I am doing or how to do it.  Sometimes you may just have to accept that fact that it is just going to be bad. It will be difficult, exhausting, hard, emotional and will push you too your limits.  But no one said that life would be easy all of time.  No one promised us a rose garden.  And this is not where you will read how much the hard times will make you better.  Because quite frankly, I am not sure how the death of a parent can make a person better.  Once you have gone through it you can empathize with others in a way that you could not have before…but that is as optimistic as I can be.

So this is just going to be one of those hard times.  This is going to be one of those times where it seems that nothing is working, nothing is moving forward, nothing is getting done, nothing is getting better.  That I don’t even have time to do laundry, much less to things enjoyable like watch a favorite TV show.  There really have been few moments to enjoy, because there is too much to do.  This may be one of the times when you have to let the train run over you and pray you aren’t too messed up when it’s over.

And here I am. Dusty, tired, a little scraped up…but here.

Redefintion

It would be easy to call this redefined, but to me a stronger word is needed. To redefinition is to define something from scratch.  When you really have no clue, but have to figure it out anyway.  This is where I am.

There are a few things to redefinition in my life.  First, life is great, all things considered.  A great career, a great company, a wonderful relationship, amazing, supportive, loving friends.  I am very lucky and blessed.  But even with all of that, there is a lot of figuring out.

Happiness:  Happiness after the loss of a loved one feels different.  I am a happy person by default, having an upbeat disposition.  But I am acutely aware of who is missing.  Wanting to call and not being able.  But knowing she is here with me, watching over me, saying hello with little signs.  There is happiness in these things.

Family:  Now the family unit must be redefinitioned (yes that is a word, at least in my dictionary).  Mom is gone now.  And my closest sister in age and geography has stepped out of the picture, no longer wanting to be a part of mine or Dad’s life.  So I must figure out how to be a family now.  Thank goodness there are 3 other siblings on which to lean and who are being very supportive. My answer? LOVE.  What will that look like for Dad’s 80^th birthday?  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years?  I have no idea.  But surely there is enough love out there to figure it out.

Adulting:  Crap. This means I have to be an adult.  I still have trouble putting my pants on without falling on my face.  I have no idea what I am doing, or how to do it. Unless it involves falling, tripping and breaking my toes.  I would like to think that I will get through this with Grace and Humor.  More than likely it will be a lot of long pauses, awkward moments and blank stares. The role of Humor will be played by those who are watching.  I know, you aren’t laughing at me, you are laughing near me…

Love:  Holy crap, do I have enough love to fill the void of Mom, sister, her three sons? I have no idea, but certainly with faith and prayer I will find out.  It’s going to be rough, but it can be done.  People do it every day, so we can too.  And no doubt there will be plenty of laughter along the way, as there always is.  That is the thing about life – we may never know or understand the roads on which we end up traveling, but we can at least make the best of it.

Grief: I have no idea what grief looks like, but I have a feeling that I am deeply in the middle of a staring contest with it.  I am going to win too.  After going through all of the phases, which I am not even sure of what they are called.  But a rose by any other name…so does it really matter?  I imagine grief and I will become quite good friends before the end. So I hope it likes coffee and wine.  And soft pillows.

Every day: Slowly I am getting my groove back.  Getting back to work, being productive…not bursting out in tears every hour.  That is pretty huge.  My co-workers were beginning to think my puffy eyes and red nose were a permanent thing.  Life is getting back to being a series of serious and comedic moments.  Living with an 80-year-old is an adventure.  He likes it really warm. As in 90 degrees feels good to him.  Like when we ordered pizza. And he wanted to eat it outside. When it was 93 degrees.  My boyfriend and I are melting, trying to eat this hot pizza, sweat pouring out of use like were are made of holes.  Meanwhile, Dad is oblivious, even putting hot sauce on his slice commenting on what a nice evening it was.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Holidays:  See above family.  Just an expansion.  Mom held everything together.  Now we have to figure it out on our own.  For sure there will be a big Christmas tree.  Her ornaments.  Wrapping. And wrapping. And wrapping.  Hot chocolate. Cats. A big fireplace.  And not sure what else.  We will figure it out when we get there. Redefinition.

Decoration:  I already had a stuffed house before my boyfriend moved in.  Now more things with Dad.  I am discovering the lost art of cleaning out, throwing away things I haven’t used or worn in years to make room for…more stuff.  It is liberating and slightly scary.  When was the last time you looked in those boxes that have been packed for the last 20 years??  Yep, did that a few weeks ago.  And everywhere you look, there is a painting, picture, piece of furniture.  And whatever you do, do not open that closet door!

Dinner time:  We usually cook every night anyway, but it is pretty cool to have another at the dinner table at night.  And then after dinner conversations.  Beer or wine on the patio.  TV?  At some point I will have to binge watch everything I have missed and am missing.  I may need to book at “Bedcation” to catch up.

Gardening:  In addition to lots of stuff, I have inherited about 40 plants.  Except I am not good with plants, but I am determined to changed that.  Everything from a Delicious Monster, or a Staghorn Fern, to rubber tree plants, to a ficus benjamina, to many cacti, to other green things, this is going to be a very leafy adventure (hopefully). There are plants everywhere in the yard, and this winter, my house will be the greenhouse. Should be interesting with the cats…

Working out:  Help! My fat pants seem to have shrunk in the laundry…Or maybe I just need to get to the gym, eventually.  Between working and everything else, the gym, or even working out at home, seems like a distant fantasy. It’s a shame redefinitioning doesn’t burn any calories, because if it did I would be in my skinny jeans.

No doubt many others have redefinitioned these things too, and more.  The great thing about life is that we do get to make up our own rules, we do get to write how we want it.  And whatever these things are, I want them to be stuffed with Love.  Like a giant stuff olive (can you tell I am hungry?)

The Blessing of a Broken Heart

It is a blessing to have a broken heart. It is a blessing to cry rivers, even oceans of tears.  It is a blessing to feel loss so deep that you wonder if you can even breath.

This may sound ridiculous.  But to me it means that I have truly loved enough to feel that loss.  My mother and I were very close.  And her passing has left a terrible loss in my life.  But I would not trade that loss for anything.

Because it is attached to my wonderful childhood, to being taught silly songs when I was little, being read to, being made to do my homework. It is attached to hot chocolate on a night when I could not sleep, and too many hugs to be able to count.

Heartbreak and heartache never get easier.  Losing those you love never gets easier. But no one said that life would be easy.  That was never promised to us.  And when our heart is breaking, is it not because whoever it was gave us joy and love?  The amount of joy and love conversely reflects in the amount of the pain.

So let it rain. Let the floods wash my soul and heart clean, let the love of those I have lost carry me through. And let the love of those who are in my life now fill in the cracks, so that all my pieces are put back.

So if it hurts because I loved them so much, then that is OK. I want to love. That is part of living a full life. And that is the blessing of a broken heart.

Time and Grace

So, for a Klutz, that title at first sounds a bit ambitious.  I saw a piece that I wrote about 5 years ago. It talked about accomplishing goals except for balance. But now looking back, it seems that has been accomplished, and replaced.  It is now Grace that seek.

Though life is wonderful right now, there is always room for better;  to do better, be better, work better.  And faith.  Even when my faith is short, somehow prayers get me through.  When I am frazzled and worried with family, work, career, and just life in general.  While it seems that I have mastered the art of balance (at least for the most part), I am still ever chasing that illusive Grace.  (Yes, I know I am a klutz).

Sharing space and a home together with  my boyfriend, as we start a new life, so to speak.  Making plans to build a life together, step by step, one heartbeat at a time. It has been a long while since someone else has lived in my house.  It has made me aware of so many wonderful things, including the need for Grace in every day life.  To give more, be more kind, be more loving, be more patient, than ever.  Because your home should be sanctuary, should be where you are protected and loved and where things are sacred.  But it takes work when you are frazzed after a long day of tasks, or after a 4 hour total commute in traffic.

And it is faith that helps me remember Grace.  Yes, even for a klutz, Grace is possible.  And I find that I have more and more every single day, as I explore and strengthen my faith.

You can still be passionate, still stand up for that which you believe. You simply do not have to be ugly about it.  Imagine what the world would be like if more people aspired to have Grace?

Imagine just what politics would be like if more people practiced Grace? No more name calling, or comparing hands, or arguments.  Just kind discussion.  Well, a girl can dream right?

Here is the original post form 5 years ago that started me thinking today:

Time, Energy and Balance

At the end of last year, I made a goal board.  It had several things on it that I wanted to accomplish for 2011 – exercise, travel, balance, love, laughter, a great pair of shoes and peace. So far everything has fallen into place and every day, inch by inch, baby step by baby step, I am getting closer to meeting those goals.  The hardest one, the one that seems could be the most illusive is balance.

There are so many things to do, that needs to be done, that I want to do, that I should do, that sometimes it is overwhelming. And I get stressed and irritable.  There are meetings, phone calls, outings, projects, laundry,working out,  friends, family, pets and life.  All calling my name, all wanting time, all needed a piece of me. I makes lists so I can keep track of tasks and feel a sense of accomplishment as I cross them off.

I know how to work hard, I know how to accomplish a great deal of things, but somehow the balance escaped me sometimes .. And I struggle to get it back. I write for a living, but sometimes I am so busy living that  do not have time to write and that is when I feel most off balance. And as I scramble to get everything done and accomplished. I have been frazzled, I have been careless, I have been exhausted.

Maybe the secret to balance is not to speed up and get everything done, but to take a  moment (or three) and prioritize.  And at the top of the list? ME. I have to remember to take care of myself if I am going to be able to be balanced AND cross things off the to -do list. Sometimes to accomplish balance, once must take pause and be still.

So I take a breath. And another. And another. And soon the moment passes. And as I make my way through the list and tasks, I take a breath. And then another. Maybe balance is something we strive for, always working on it, never ceasing to reach for it. Maybe just as our lives are liquid and always a work in progress, so is our balance…Or maybe i just need a vacation.

Alcohol is Not Consent

Usually I save this space for lighter topics, but this one really stuck a nerve.

When I was in college, it was standard that if a young lady drank too much, she was protected.  The gentlemen or female Friends around her would make sure that she got home or at the very least, some place safe to sleep it off.  My house was usually the place everyone crashed, so there were often friends in the couch, or on the floor even, safe and sound.  I didn’t drink in college, so I was usually the designated driver, or the person who poured the coffee the next morning and handed them an aspirin.

Never, ever was it considered OK to take a woman to bed if she could not stand, much less if she were unconscious. So I am wondering when, in the space of 20 or years, did it become OK for someone like Brock Turner to rape an unconscious woman behind a dumpster, or anywhere for that matter? When did drinking too much alcohol become a free pass to take advantage of a woman, or anyone, in a sexual manner?  When did the presence of alcohol become confused with consent and when did rape become condoned as “2o minutes of action” that was basically the fault of the defendant?

It is easy to boil this story down to a bunch of privileged, narcissistic egomaniacs thinking they are beyond reproach, and yes I do believe that is part of it.  But I do think that there is more.  Look at the person who did this to the woman, then read his father’s reasoning in his letter to the court.  We all understand loving and standing by your children no matter what, but to say that young Brock is the victim over the young woman is beyond outrageous. It it reprehensible.  And the apple does not fall far from the tree.

But the sad fact is that no matter how disgusting Brock and his father are, that the judge agreed is even worse.  And no matter how outraged we are that this happened, unless or until law enforcement changes their attitude toward female victims, nothing will change.

And I have harsh words for the current situation and those who believe it is acceptable.

It has long been the habit of law enforcement to blame the female victim when it comes to violent crimes.  If a women says someone beat her, attacked her or even raped her, she is immediately put in a place where she is guilty until proven innocent.  A fact I found out the hard way five years ago when I was brutally attacked.  Despite twenty witnesses, police photos of my injuries and my attacker’s prior criminal record of domestic violence, the case was dismissed for lack of evidence. Police blamed me for the attack and did not believe I did nothing to “provoke him”.  Bottom line is there is nothing any woman could do to deserve being beaten and strangled within a few seconds of her life.

And, despite the comments of Brock’s father and the judge in the case, no amount of alcohol makes it acceptable to blame the woman for being sexually assaulted.  And if you are of the mentality that it is, then you are part of the problem. It doesn’t matter if she was naked at that party and completely drunk, no means no, and being unconscious means, beyond a shadow of a doubt, NO. The fact that young men, older men, and even some of Brock’s female friends do not understand this is repulsive.  It is basic human decency to not attack or assault someone when they are unconscious – how she became unconscious doesn’t even matter.  Whether she had a medical condition, drank to much or was in a permanent vegetative state, she was not able to say yes or no.

Meanwhile, women are also often criticized for being feisty, for not giving men a chance, for being bitchy independent or too picky when it comes to men.  As a single woman I can tell you that it is rough out there, and women have to be feisty in order to survive. And the fact that any women may be expected to lesson her spirit, her fire, her independence, her feisty, to make it easier for men, is unacceptable.

I have a wonderful man who loves me, but that does not lesson the fact that while most men are wonderful, women must always be on guard for the ones who are not.

A man will never know what it feels like to be a woman walking in a dark parking lot, or on a deserted street to her car.  A man will never understand how it feels to have to be aware of your surroundings all the time when out, even when with friends.  How protective we have to be in bars, even when out with friends, what kind of lines we are fed in those bars, in grocery stores, in the gym, at the bank, at work, and pretty much everywhere.

When I have a daughter, I will not only teach her how to be discerning with the friends she has in her life, but also the men she has in her life as well.  I will teach her to be smart, and feisty, and confident.  I will teach her to be fierce enough to make any man who mistreats her cower in the corner because he should know better than to mistreat or raise a hand to any woman. In short, I will teach her to breath fire, and be proud of it.

But I will also teach my son how to be a gentleman. That no means no, and that basic human decency is the very least he should do, and he better do more than that. It isn’t enough to just treat others with the most basic excuse of minimum treatment. He should rise and lead by example to not only be a champion of women, but to all those who are weaker than he.  Because the bottom line is that if you want to know what is wrong with the young men in the world, look to their parents.

And, one of the most important things to teach, one of the most obvious absent values in Brock’s life, is accountability for one’s actions.  It is not enough that his father thinks what was done is acceptable. Or that the attorney attacked this young woman on the stand, splaying her guts wide open for everyone to see, dissecting her life as wide as possible to humiliate her.

Brock is of legal age, he is a man. If he can get into that nice and expensive of a college, he has the power of deductive reasoning, and he can tell right from wrong. In that moment, behind the dumpster, he made a decision that forever changed her life.  And the fact that he doesn’t like the consequences shouldn’t even be taken into consideration. If we freed or suspended the sentencing of every criminal who didn’t like being caught and paying the price, this world would truly be a terrible place.

If Brock Turner didn’t want to go to prison, if he didn’t want to be a registered sex offender, if he didn’t want to be known as a rapist, then maybe he shouldn’t have raped an unconscious women behind a dumpster. And if his father didn’t want to be embarrassed by having his son in the news for such a terrible act, maybe he should have taught him better morals and character.  NOT raping an unconscious woman should never be the exception, it should be the rule.

The one good thing that might have come from this terrible situation, is that it is causing a tremendous amount of dialog,  and people are becoming aware.  It has brought attention to the fact that rape on college campuses is rampant (something that was true even when I attended). That many times, maybe even most times, law enforcement blames victims and makes it so hard for them, that many don’t even bother to come forward and report the crime. And that there is a subset of men out there, who are successful. good looking, accomplished…and completely devoid of conscious or remorse in how they treat member of the opposite sex.

Promiscuity and alcohol have nothing to do with rape. It doesn’t and should not matter how much a woman has had to drink, what she is wearing or what she was doing up to the point she says no. And to say that any of those things means a women is asking to be raped is unacceptable. We don’t say kid who talks to a child molester is asking for it.

No means no and alcohol is not, and never will be consent.

 

 

Motivate, Inspire and Don’t Listen to Naysayers

We have all read many times that as you go through life, there will be people who motivate and inspire you, and there will be people who try to tear you down, demoralize, dehumanize and demotivate you.  People who are jealous, threatened or who just may be miserable themselves, who will do their best to stop you from succeeding.  And then there are those who will lift you up, inspire, motivate and encourage.  Those are the true leaders in the world, regardless of job title or position.

It was may years ago that I sat I her office one afternoon.  As vice president of the company we worked for, I was shocked to hear the words that same out of her mouth.  She told me that I was too stupid to work at that company.  And as I listened to her, I made a promise to myself that as a leader, I would never do to her what she was trying to do to me.

First, let me say that I thank her now, so many years later. Because that negative experience motivated me in a way that I then could not have imaged. She was not a leader she was just a boss.  A leader would never have said anyone was “too stupid”, even if it were true.

Had I been younger, less confident and more impressionable, she as the vice president, would have greatly damaged my confidence and self image.  There is a saying that with power comes great responsibility, and that is true.  What was not true was what she was saying. The only thing it did was show how little class she had, and motivate me to be a much better leader than the example sitting in front of me.

I want to always inspire others. Because to be able to inspire others, to make them think or feel, to help them believe in themselves, to help them feel love for themselves and others, to me, that is the most amazing thing to do.  And if I can do that, just a little, then that is can incredible blessing.

So when someone shows you that they are a boss and not a leader, when you have someone who says something so cruel and unprofessional, you can use that and turn it into a positive.  An example of what not to do and how to be better than those who are beneath you, even if they are above your pay grade.

Why do some want to tear you down?  Who knows.  It could be that they are threatened, or jealous of you and your success, or they are just miserable themselves. And honestly it doesn’t really matter why they do what they do, just that you do not listen to them.  Or that you use what they do or say as a platform on which to build.  You should be so busy working to make your life fabulous, that you don’t have time to take what they say to heart.  Build on their words and negativity. You have the power to turn it into something positive, something beautiful.

From that job, have been blessed to be a successful writer, working for some of the most amazing companies. I have had the pleasure of working with and learning from some incredible leaders, and they have never demoralized anyone like that one boss.  Every great leader I have had, has inspired others to believe in themselves and their abilities.  They have taken opportunities to teach and give constructive criticism that made that person want to be better.  That is leader.

So please, please, don’t let let those who would try to tear you down, break your spirit or just be mean, affect your self worth.  Whether it is on a professional or personal level, only those who are there to inspire you have your best interest at heart.  A leader will never insult you, never tell you are you stupid, or ugly, or dumb, or defective in away.  if someone says these things, it says more about them than it does about you.

That is not to say that those who love you will never criticize, but learn the difference between those who may be concerned and are truly trying to help, and those who simply want to entertain themselves watching your pain.  And then, reach deep inside you, deep where light does not even go, and turn that pain power.