A Rough Ride through Death Valley

Like an old cowboy who is out wranglin for a month, sittin on the back of some old horse, that is how I feel these days! The ride is rough and the terrain is very treacherous, this Valley of Grief I am in right now. Every day has been a new day. It starts out with a beautiful sunrise as I head out to work. But, by the end of the day - this old lady is tired and sore; my bones aren't achin, it is heart that has taken a toll throughout the day.

I know what is bothering me. It is the time of year. It is all of the memories that have been attached to this time of year for my forever it seems. Maybe I can't remember every Christmas, but with the aide of photos - they all begin to seem just like yesterday. I am a sucker for Christmas. I can still remember seeing Santa and his sleigh as plain as can be - up in the sky going across the moon on the way to Christmas Eve services as a child. And there are the many Christmases spent with our own little family. Traveling to and from both sets of parents with the car packed with kids, gifts and goodies. We always just loved Christmas. Our own kids anticipation. Their eagerness has continued as young adults. Spending time together over the holidays, playing board games, watching movies in front of a warm fire is what our family loves to do. Oh, and of course eating and munching and snacking the entire time!

Then there waslast year. The beginning of our end. And, that right there has thrown me off of the horse many times these past few weeks. The vivid memories of conversations, hospitalizations, decisions and acceptance of what direction our life had suddenly taken all seems like it was yesterday. I see those moments in the Christmas lights. I hear it in the music on the radio and never do I know what is going to push me over the edge and into the area of uncontrolled emotions. Yes, the tear ducts are cleaned out and fully functioning.

The good news is I have been kept very busy. The new job I took in mid-November is GOOD. It is a great learning experience. I am able to utilize the many years of nursing experience and some age old wisdom, mixed with new medical treatments and protocols. Soon, I will be pushed out of the Orientation nest and taking triage calls on my own. The computer technology is awesome and I feel proud to be associated with this innovative hospital network. I have kept caring for my best patient ever - Matthew. A few shifts on the weekend every month will keep me in his life. We both agree that is a good thing.

The 13 week grief group that I was in has ended. Getting to know these people who also have lost someone near and dear has been such a priceless gift. We have bonded. We tend to feel like we are clinging to one another in a lifeboat out on the choppy seas. We understand one another's pain and lonliness. The best part about a grief group like this is that we can TALK about our feelings to one another. In the real world, where the living goes on and death is not talked about, where denial takes a grip of one's lives - it becomes too uncomfortable to bring up the subject of dead loved ones. The uncomfortable topic of death is not something our society accepts as an everyday topic. Aren't we super people? Death only happens to others. right? Many minutes were spent at our last grief group deciding how we were going to get through the holidays and how did we want to honor and remember our loved one. The most time was spent on 'worrying how other's would perceive what we wanted to do'. Having a special poem read, or perhaps lighting a candle in honor were some of the ideas. I was so one of those people who felt like, should I or shouldn't I bring up the name of the dead person. I wouldn't want to make the grieving survivors feel bad so best not to say anything. But, I will tell you now, being on the other side of this whole situation. WE WANT TO spend some time TALKing about Bruce,Kathy,Terry, Lee,Brent,Beth, Owen, Jim, Norm, Brandon, Cameron,Don,Ralph,Dale, Charles,Grandpa M, etc. We want people to remember and share with us the good stories, the good times, the moments that our loved one impacted their life. I figure maybe there will come a day, when it seems less important to me to have Bruce still feel so vivid in my memory and yours. Right now, he is everywhere I look. Yet, he isn't there. And, that just seems so surreal.

I must now interject that I have had so many wonderful friends and family who have asked, who mention Bruce, who care so deeply for me that they are calling, emailing me and sharing something about Bruce that they too miss. So, no one get offended. The above paragraph is referring to our Grief Group and the stereotypical reaction to "what to say during the HOlidays to someone who has recently loss a loved one"

My drive to and from Red Wing, MN has been a true gift. The morning sky has been an everchanging palette of colors. It leaves me feeling 'inspired', ready to face the day. More than one day the sun was rising over the little hill as I cross the bridge from Wisconsin into Minnesota. The sunrays were shooting straight up in the sky. There have been crystal glittering snowflakes, birds in pairs and in groups of five flying overhead. And then when I leave in the evening, the dark night winter sky is already overhead, but to the west, the orange setting sun slowly sinks as if to say goodnight. I don't have any answers, but yet, I feel that my GOD is looking out for me. He knows what buttons to push. My faith has never waivered, it has grown stronger even though I don't understand what lies ahead on my road I am on.

I want to get on with my life one day. But, I feel it is important to admit these feelings - to accept that who I am and how I feel is the way it is suppose to be for me. One day, a Friday night will be easier. One day, I will look forward to Christmas with the usual anticipation that I have always had. And, one day - thinking of my husband will just bring a smile and not a choking feeling in my throat and tears to my eyes. Until then, life will go on, and so will I. I am holding onto the reins, my feet are in the stirrups and I am on the ride of my life.

Merry Christmas!
Love, Deb

PS. For those who have gotten to the very end, know how much I appreciate your love, care and concern. My family is the absolute best. God blessed Bruce and I with three fantastic children who have jumped through fire to be there for me. Each one has gone over, above and beyond to spend time with me, hang out with me on a Friday night, and give me what I need - LOVE. One day I pray it is soon, I will not feel so needy. And, then just maybe I will be able to reciprocate in some small way for someone else.

His Birthday, My Birthday

His Birth-Day was Sunday. My Birthday was four days earlier. I didn't want to celebrate mine. I just wanted to celebrate his. So we did. We ate homemade pizza and watched movies, the kids and I that is. It felt good. Little Avery is now making this low humming noise. She is finding her voice. She keeps my mind and heart happy.

Many moments are sad this time of year. It was one year ago now that Bruce went to the Dr for his "cough", was put on antibiotics and prednisone. And it will soon be one year ago that the diagnosis of Stage IV Lung Cancer was delivered. All of these dates roam in my head. It is hard to concentrate on today, this year, this Holiday. I am trying to go through the motions. I don't have any desire to decorate. I look around and see stuff lying here and there and don't have the energy to do anything about it. Maybe it too will all get better.

I wish I could just fast-forward through the Holidays.

My life has changed. In one year, I have lost a husband, gained a granddaughter and started a new job. It doesn't sound like much when I write it down.

Friends and family remembered Bruce's birthday this weekend. It was nice to have them call and mention it during our family gathering.

My job is going well. While I am at work, I compartmentalize, keeping my heart wrapped up. When I walk to my car, get in my car then my heart feels sad. Seeing Holiday lights and listening to Holiday music just doesn't seem right. Not this year. Other widows have told me this is very common.

I can't put up the tree this year. So, Wendy and Abby have volunteered to do it. I am going to try to put on a cheery face and make it through the next few weeks. The old saying, fake it till you make it. Right?

Underneath it all

I have been looking at pictures from the last couple of years that are on my computer for some projects I am working on. I found some great photos I took of some poinsetta plants that Bruce had received as gifts while he was hospitalized. The photos I can't stop thinking about are the ones I took of the undersides of their leaves. You see, I had taken them to the kitchen sink for a watering, and the morning light was shining in our southern kitchen window. I remember thinking how pretty the sunlight was on the red varigated leaves and wanting to capture the sunlight streaming in the window. I took several of the plant sitting on my counter trying to get this idea just right and eventually found myself squatting and focused on the undersides of this plant seeing the sunlight as it diffused through these leaves, and wanting to capture it as well.

So, as I have been looking at photos it is these photos of the underneath sides that seem to keep coming into my mind's view. They are beautiful. The transparency of the leaves allows the sunlight to filter through. All parts of the leaves are then highlighted. So much more so, than just looking at them from on top! I can't help but ask myself why I am thinking about them. And, as it goes, this mind of mine begins to build on this concept that perhaps there is a real message or life lesson that is waiting for me to learn. This unique style of looking at one's life isn't strange to me, it somehow makes sense that I am focusing on what lies underneath the beauty of life. I am not thinking of Hell by no means, but instead the beauty of what we don't focus on in our daily lives is an ever present thought for me. And, perhaps it is because, I didn't see the real beauty in what was underneath it all but instead grumbled at some aspects of my life with Bruce.

There are many moments in our many years of marriage that would fit into a category of non-important, not-beautiful, and even half-annoying. I am thinking about our bedroom right now. And, just how much I miss changing our bedsheets every week! It was a routine that we had. You see, Bruce had VERY DRY SKIN. He had body dandruff - especially in the winter. No matter how much he lotioned and greased up, our bed was a dust-bowl especially if the sheets didn't get changed weekly. Having wood floors in our bedroom, it too became a haven for white dust, intertwined with my dark hair and lint. Each week it would get swept and dusted throughly. I even went so far as to take our bedding outside weekly to shake and air out the blankets and down comforter. Dragging these blankets through the house to the deck, I would grovel at this task. Yet, it was necessary to do. And, each week when we climbed into these fresh clean sheets, it was a night we always would comment on just how good our bed felt! Bruce would lovingly tease me that we needed to break them in! Yes, this bantor between husband and wife happens in all households, don't let anyone tell you it doesn't. So....the rest of the story can be left to your imagination...and then that too is reality in all couples lives.


Yes, this weekly changing of the sheets in the Tokheim master bedroom was something we did together. On whatever day I was home and while Bruce was showering and getting ready for work, I would pull off the old sheets, have shaken and reversed the feather bed and would have shaken the blankets outside and have everything ready to be put on by the time he was ready for work. Then, with him on his side of the bed, and me on my side, we made the bed together. He got so good a square-corners! I miss him helping me make the bed. I miss his bantor, I miss him in bed, yes - I miss him still.

I even miss the dust, the weekly routine of changing sheets. I sleep in 1/4 of our bed. I am finding myself migrating very slightly toward the center, but on most mornings, his half of the bed is still perfect. Now my changing of sheets is down to monthly. Yes, I could do it more often, but it isn't nearly as fun. Yet, I didn't think it was fun then. And, that is what I am talking about. The tasks, the moments that didn't seem quite perfect when he was alive seem to be an important lesson for me now. That is what I believe is underneath it all.

In watching this little baby lately, and changing numerous diapers, I can't help but love ALL of her! She has the cutest little buns! Even when they are all messed with baby-pooh! Even when she spits all over everything, including Grandma - she is precious. There are still dust-bunnies underneath my bed, there is less, but it is still there along with a pack-n-play crib.

I believe that the poinsetta photo I took while Bruce was lingering alive downstairs underneath me demonstrated that light shines through into all aspects of my life. It has given me a clearer picture of how things were and are. And how God is continually working in my life to lighten my load, light my path and demonstrate the beauty in even the mundane parts of my life. Although it might not seem to be transparent, our lives mirror just a leaf. There are two sides to looking at everything. This is what I am being reminded of today.

Have a beautiful day. Deb

Women Left Behind

Last Saturday, a group of 18 women with one thing in common came together for a morning of conversation. Their common denominator is that they are now alone, they have been left behind after their husband has passed.

This gathering evolved in my mind shortly after Bruce's funeral. It was during the visitation on that bitterly cold Thursday evening in February that I noticed all of the women who also knew what I was going through. They had come out on that cold evening to support me. They knew what I was and would be going through. Their eyes spoke volumes as brief condolences were spoken. I couldn't get them out of my mind. I felt embarrassed that I hadn't been as supportive of them during their loss as they were being to me. I hadn't even gone to many of their husband's visitations or funerals. Some, I hadn't even sent a card to! How awful I felt, yet here were these women. At least six that I could count came out to support me!

As I spoke to my good friend who also had lost her husband, she too said she had been thinking about forming a local group. And, when another friend, also a widow called and invited me for coffee because she had a book she had ordered for me - it became clear that the three of us would someday form a local group.

We began by just thinking and making a list of the women we each personally knew who was about our age (give or take 20 years) who were in our same LIFEBOAT. In the beginning the three of us decided we weren't a counseling group. We were going to be a SOCIAL group. We want to inject laughter and fun into our lives and offer support to women we know who are going through this chapter of their life as well.

It was a great success. As each lady introduced herself and how long it had been and other details were expressed. No matter if it had been 14 years or 11 weeks, we each knew a little about how our lives paralleled one another. There were tears and raw emotion at times, intermingled with laughter and more jokes. New friendships have already begun to form. Ideas for small and large group social outings are forming as is a newsletter and email with resources and ideas that will be shared.

We have all discovered that life is too short. Women are social beings. From the days of gathering berries somewhere on this planet to todays harried lifestyle, we need other women in our lives. No time is more critical than when we no longer have the man we loved present anymore. Having someone who understands because she has been through what you are going through is huge. Having someone who is willing to stop and listen, to give a hug, to show she cares is priceless. And most importantly, when one feels as if she is making a difference in someone else's life ~ the reciprocal gift is huge.

I want to thank all of the women who in my life have demonstrated how to be a widow. Many have supported me in countless ways in this grief-boat I am in. From my Aunt Grace, Jean F, Jo R, Dottie, Cathy C, Robin, Julie, June H to all of the countless un-named women know that I appreciate you more than any blog can say! Deb

Measuring time in gains and losses

(I started this blog on the first Sunday in November)
As I pondered what to write on this FALL BACK in time day, the words - gains and losses were present in my thoughts. Yes, another month has been gained in my loss of Bruce. It has now reached the 9th month. And with that magic number, I can't help but be reminded of how prescious that number 9 has been to me more than one time in my life. NINE MONTHS times three it took for us to wait and wonder and be excited for the birth of our three children. Those nine months too, seemed at times to pass by inch by inch, and yet at the same time, flew by. And now 30, 27 and 25 years later - that time seems like only a wisp of air as it passes by my lips.

I visited my good friends Friday eve. As the three of us visited about this ninth month in my journey, he a rather unique and intelligent human being ~ was excited that nine months had passed by for me. He equated this time to a pregnancy. The excitement of who was being born ~ me... was on his mind as we spoke. I of course, was thinking of it in losses not gains for myself. Although, I must admit, that I am experiencing some refreshed moments that sometimes just don't seem right for a grieving woman. Yes, I should still be grieving. And, don't get me wrong, I am. But it is evolving. The tears seem to come less. I seem to keep those tender feelings in control more, and have replaced the raw emotion with a softer approach that consists of thinking of moments with Bruce in my memory. Re-enacting times spent good and bad - allowing them to flow in and out of my consciousness. It still seems so not real for him to be gone from all of us forever.

The positive changes that I am experiencing are in my mindset and then follow in my actions. I have begun to exercise again. Although, not regularly quite yet, I am again taking a conscious look at myself in the mirror. Never, has aging been something that this woman wants to do, in fact, this woman fights it almost at every chance she gets. The flab at my waist has been calling to me. O.K., I will try to do some sit-ups. One day, coming in from working outside, I found my 25 year old Lance doing a workout in the house, and he invited me to join him. Laughing at me, his workout took on less of a serious note. But, this fun we were having felt good again. I am again ingesting my vitamins and my anti-oxidants. And I am working on eating vegetables/ fruits and lean meats, cutting out fats and carbs is also back on the frontburner. The painful arthritis in my hands and wrists can't happen. Not yet! Well, I am aging, yes I do know that. This month is the month of that significant reminder for me.

And with that ominous day called a BIRTH-DAY, comes yet more thoughts. The honeymoon I have felt to be on in the past few months since our anniversary in August is coming to a grinding halt. Birthdays, the approaching holidays and memories of last year at this time are creeping in on me. I have learned through my grief group that the anticipation of these major life events is always so much worse than the actual day/days. So it seems only fitting that in October I made a major decision for myself that begins on November 20.

I have taken a full time position in a medical clinic in Red Wing as a triage nurse. I begin this new phase of my life on November 20. I had been 'thinking' about a change. And, had mentally given myself an entire year from Bruce's death, when I would begin this process of searching for what I call a real job, with a definition as being - one with benefits. The kids had suggested it early after Bruce had died, but I wasn't ready for change then. I didn't want my life to change. I wanted to continue in the life I had been living with him. And, they all backed down. Giving me my space. And, always telling me, they just wanted me to be happy. And, I guess I am as happy as one can be who is walking in my shoes. Yet, there was a part of me that was surfacing that is saying, "be independent, be self-supportive, don't be a burden on your kids"

So, the process of "just looking", "just scanning the want-ads" began in late September. I pulled out an old resume and had decided I was going to update it. At about that time, I saw a job posting that appeared to be something that would be a good fit. What the heck, I could just practice - go through the steps - see how far I got! Little did I know or think about the fact that it might be right for me. As I practiced during the interview the first week in October, I found myself envisioning what working in Red Wing at this Medical center might be like. I found myself envisioning the scenic-no-hassle drive through beautiful Wisconsin along the Mississippi and I found myself thinking I might like the change of pace. Since I was "just practicing", I took that approach for asking what I wanted, which was that I could not start the job until mid-November if they were to offer it to me. One week later, I got the job offer. They were willing to wait for me. It isn't often that a full-time Monday through Friday day position opens up for an R.N. I will go about this as I do most things in my life. I will give it my best shot and see what happens.

This gain feels good. The WAY IT WAS, my old life isn't a loss. It is still part of me and always will be. The way it was is filled with lots of grand memories. Life does go on and I too must keep on, keeping on. All of the things I have been doing, I will continue to do with modification. Matt, the client I have cared for on and off for 21 years will still fill one weekend every six weeks. And, perhaps instead of watching little Avery during the week, I will now get to keep her while mommy and daddy go out on a date!

Bruce would be proud of me! He would be cheering me on. I could always count on him to support me and my crazy ideas no matter if they were right or wrong for me. He loved me so much he too wanted me to be happy, to follow my heart and see where it led me. That measurement of love that wraps around my heart from him will continue to grow without his human presence. That is what eternal love is all about. This way of looking at his loss of human existence by replacing it with a growing eternal love always and forever softens this ninth month. And, if he were here, he would be singing some song out loud right now - with his hands moving in gesture to the music, like BORN TO BE WILD....all to make this moment filled with emotion be one filled with laughter instead. That twas my Bruce!

Enjoy your day today. Fondly and forever myself, Deb

A Legacy of Love, His Fate

Do you believe in fate? Webster's dictionary defines fate as

the ultimate power by which the order of things is prescribed?

I do! Although I can't perhaps describe exactly how it works or who is in charge. (although I do really know!) I believe that Bruce's life was to end when he was 55 years old and his legacy was to spread his version of love throughout the universe. Well that really sounds grandiose and almost hippie-ish! But, after the week I have had, I am again reminded that my God is in charge of my comings and my goings and no matter what I might do to control them... my life is going to play out in the order in which is was prescribed ... my fate will happen as well.

So, just how did this all begin? My writings do play a part in all of these happenings by the way! And, these writings are just a part of my story. I feel as if I am writing to the universe. Who reads this, I don't really know. Do I care? Not really, but yes, I do! One time in my life I would have cared a whole lot more than I do at this moment. It is these jumbled thoughts in my head that I want to somehow get out in a message in this blog that has caused me to care for anyone who is on my path.It was this feeling that I didn't know what to write about. That, my life was going on in some sort of fashion and actually in a not bad way. You see, the last few weeks have been good weeks for this widow of 8 and 1/2 months. And, that was causing this dilemma. What message was there to give to the universe? Maybe my writing days were over.

I love FALL. The early morning night...when I go out to get the paper at 5:30am and the stars are big, bold and bright overhead. I see Orion and nod to him. Knowing that he is my compass of the night. I love the fall colors. The bold bright oranges, golds, bronzes, browns. My sisters are redheads and look fantastic in all of these rich fall colors! A bit jealous, my fair skin, my very dark hair (which is going to stay that way!)- doesn't agree with the colors I feel closest to. Then there is the dawn of day when the purple eastern horizon yields to the sun. Eventually the shades of purple become violet and then blue as the sun peaks it's orange head. In the evening, as the sun sinks into the west, it casts its long rays across the barren gold fields as the moon rises early. It is bold, white and so close. Almost as if you could touch it. Last night, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful the DUSK was. In the grocery store, I insisted to the teenage checkout clerk, she HAD to take a 10 second break and soak in this view!

This sense of nature has always pervaded me - my being. Why - the season of death? All of my grandparents died in the Fall. This seems to be when everything crumbles, dies, wilts, why would this be the season I cherish?

I now think I know. A question I have had has been answered. On my way home from the Grief Group I have been attending, which by the way was on the topic of WHY? Why? did Bruce die? I had the radio on. The dial is usually set to NPR. Jean Ferracca on Monday night had a guest who had written a book. Dawna Markova was being interviewed on her book,

I Will Not Die an Unlived Life

. She was speaking about her Russian grandmother. My hearing immediately sharpened. My two grandmothers and my great-grandmother played a big part in my growing up years. As she spoke about times with her grandmother, I too began to have fleeting memories of my grandmothers come into view. In my early years, I had the privilege of having my paternal grandmother visit me weekly at our home. Her name was Myrta, pronounced Mertie, I, being the only child out of 5 in my family with black hair, and she, having black hair - well, of course the bond and my identity had been made. I was called Little Myrta. She was a lady in all respects. Always in a dress, nylons and heels, she personified to me who I was to be. She didn't drink milk, neither did I! What she did, I did. I don't really remember having any big philosophical talks with her. But, what I did receive from my Grandma Schutte was a sense of love and acceptance. In my later teen years and early mothering years, it was my Grandma Whitney who I had to share moments with. Every child need to have one adult in their life. Markova notes what Rachel Carson writes in A Sense of Wonder, "If children are to keep alive their inborn sense of wonder, they need the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, discovering with them the joy, the excitement and mystery of the world we live in."

As I was finding Dawna Markova's interview on the NPR website this morning, and reviewing what she has said in her interview, I recognized Rachel Carson's name. I knew I had heard it before. So, googling her name, I thought she was the lady who had written a very important book about our environment - You see, I had taken an Environmental Studies class two years ago this fall...and we had learned about Rachel Carson. When I saw the title of her book, Silent Spring, the tears flowed. I know, I knew... nothing goes unchecked in our lives. My God is overseeing everything. He knew that I would need to know about Rachel Carson someday. Oh, the naysayers will say: "Come on Deb, you are over the top now!" You are going off the deep end! All Freshman students learn about Rachel Carson!".... And I will say to you, you are right. But not all Freshman students are 53 year old women whose husband will die in one year. Her spring will be silent, and so....so what?? you say??? what does this have to do with Bruce? with Deb? with our FATE, with our LEGACY?

The CONNECTIONS we make or are made in our lives not only affect the people we live and work with and love. But, our connections are inter generational. And FALL for me is the culmination of all of these connections. From life to death...the circle of life for one more year has been completed. Knowing and trusting in nature, that after the cold of winter - life will resume again - in the spring. Year after year, century after century. Generation after generation - our connections continue.

Dawna Markova knows this too. She knows that what her grandmother taught her, she too will pass on to the next generation. The love from previous generations is passed into the next.

Bruce didn't get to hold little Avery. But his love will be passed on in so many ways. I can envision what he would be saying and doing with her. And, so can my sons and daughter. They are part of their father. They were taught to love, to laugh and to have fun in the moment. This, is what they are teaching the new generation of Tokheims.

Twice this week, it was nice enough out to go outside as I did my daycare stint with this precious human being. Although she is just 4 and 1/2 months old, I am already conditioning her to know that Grandma is going to be teaching her a lot in the coming years, God-willing. In her car seat, she was mesmerized by the sights and smells of Fall. I raked leaves, pulled dead weeds and communed with nature. As I worked, I couldn't help think about how awesome these moments were. Even in the drudgery of doing this work by myself, I felt good. I would look at her every few seconds and say something silly, some high-pitched baby-babble talk to get her to smile and, she always would! She would kick her feet and look directly at me, communing back that she too was enjoying this day, this moment that God had made.

I want to get this book by Dawna Markova. She is on the right track. We do leave a legacy for others. We need to all become more aware of just how important our legacy is to the coming generations. I plan to read Rachel Carson's book, A Silent Wonder as well. I feel I am being directed to these women.

Last weekend, my daughter Abby and I went to see, Into the Wild. This must-see movie, recommended by my son, Lance is deep and affecting. This true story about a young man who wants to figure out his life and just who he is- left a searing impression. Although I had read the book a few years ago, the movie again impacted the deepest parts of my being. who we are and what we do, does affect others. That is the connection!

I plan to be the best DARN GRANDMOTHER that this world can have! O.K., I will concede. I will TIE for BEST DARN GRANDMOTHER with all of the hundreds of thousands of grandmothers out there who want to leave a LEGACY of LOVE to the future generation of children.

Thank you Bruce, Thank you Rachel Carson, Thank you Dawna Markova.

and Thank you God, for helping me to see my purpose in BEING.

All things have their season and in their time all things pass. My FATE is to be determined.

Sincerely,

Deb, aka Grandma

Las Vegas Yesterday - Here today

It was a short night last night. Getting up this am to go to work took some effort! You see, my late flight, the drive home and a little prep for today - the head hit the pillow around 0215 military time!

Even though I was still charged up from the bright lights of Las Vegas, it felt good to be HOME ... in my bed... especially after the rocky flight over the Rockies~ yes..it wasn't one of the smoothest on the way home. As I contemplated my options as the pilot warned us of our impending rough ride - a calm peace came over me. Was Bruce outside my window somewhere with all of the other angels? Trusting in technology and odds - I relaxed knowing I had no control for my demise. And, I really didn't care. Whatever was to be, was going to be, and I was going to be OK. Soon we were on the ground. It was even fitting that I traded places - my good aisle seat in the middle of the plane with a young man who claimed he had just wed the lovely young thing who had the middle seat next to me. So, yes...I took his seat after congratulating this young couple and went to the very rear of the plane. Happy for them - I have accepted my loss - my aloneness - my singleness - well, at least that is how it felt last night.

I met up with my sister and my friend for a 3 night stay in Las Vegas. From visiting my niece who is a freshman at UNLV to the many miles of tread put on my feet and all of the chatter that three 50-something women can make in a hotel room - it was very fun and very good for me.

Yes, I thought of Bruce almost non-stop. As we landed in Las Vegas, the big green MGM greeted me. That was 'our hotel', where we usually stayed. From the first time I walked through the casino, the noises, the smells... all of the many memories of times spent there surfaced throughout our stay. But, for the most part my sadness was kept at bay. That was until we stopped for a drink at a lively bar in the TROPICANA that had a great band playing. My sister immediately found a table near the dance floor and we three middle-aged woman decided to have a little fun. Not afraid to get up and let loose (just a little bit) we three all dance until our feet hurt. The band took a break and the lead singers came down to thank us for the good time we were having. My sister and I split our second glass of wine while my friend was finishing her martini. And then it happened. This lovely older couple took the dance floor. He had white hair - just like Bruce's. He was a similar build - that stocky shorter build - trying not to look at his hair, I stared at his feet. Doing a moderate paced two-step, this lively couple glowed as they danced. Their love was so evident as they smiled at one another. His touch, his look and his dance-steps all reminded me of Bruce. Trying not to cry with tears; I could no longer participate in the discussion at our table. My friend and my sister immediately sensed my emotions - a shoulder pat, a hand on top of my hand - let me know that they were there for me. As I composed myself I shared with them what had happened to bring this 'moment' on. Nancy said, "Debbie, you should go tell them." So when the next band break took place, I did just that. They were from Toronto, have been married 52 years and thanked me for my compliments. And then, I felt better.

As we were waiting in the airport last evening saying and delaying our goodbyes to one another, this dear high-school friend of mine asked me a question that made me think. "When did it hit you that Bruce was really gone?" As I thought, I couldn't really tell her when that was. That being, when did I realize he was gone for good and not ever ever ever coming back? When was it that I finally accepted this awful part of my life? I still am not sure when that was. But, I know I have. I am OK with that feeling of his permanent absence on most days. I think it was when I began to listen to news, to participate in life again on a level that was somewhat normal for me to do when he had been alive. Planning trips, planning my future again - it has happened. Life is real again. It still sucks, don't get me wrong!

I bought myself a souvenir. I have always wanted a piece of Brighton silver jewelry. As we perused the necklaces, I was eying one in particular when Chris discovered the perfect one for me. She said, "Debbie, this one is perfect and I think you should get it" It has two small circular discs. The back one says B Happy. The front disc has a small heart shaped opening that shows the B from the message on the back disc. A smaller little silver charm hangs from it with the peace symbol on it. As soon as I looked at it closer, I agreed. It was perfect. Yes, I know the B really is the Brighton store symbol, BUT...for me it stands for something else. This simple message is so meaningful right now. I am working at B-ing Happy. As Bruce lived out his last week, he many times shared the peace sign in the many photos I took of him with family and friends. Although they may be hard to look at, his endearing qualities were demonstrated even in his waning moments.

Some man asked me to dance. It was a swing style dance. I told him that I didn't know what I was doing unless he directed me. He said, "don't worry, I will" and he did. A little bit better dancer than Bruce, he really knew what he was doing. Bruce usually just pretended to know and would all of a sudden whip me around. Yet, this guy's forceful directing throughout the dance felt a little like Bruce. It was fun to dance, to feel alive again. Trying to keep my backless shoes on and twirl when he wanted me to twirl lent to extra concentration.

My friend is alone now too. Her circumstances are different, yet we both are finding so many parallels in our lives. As we shared our inner most thoughts, we both agreed that the absence of touch in our lives is awful. From hugs to hand holding - when it suddenly isn't in your life, it is missed. We also agreed that we needed to dance more. This safe form of touch felt good to both of us.

As I spent a moment with my thoughts on this journal entry, the words to one of my favorite Christian songs came into my thoughts. It's title is "WHO AM I" by Casting Crowns, this song is based on Psalm 139 and 52 and Ephesians 2. One section of this song helps me daily deal with me and life and death. It answers that questions with this verse. I am a flower quickly fading. Here today and gone tomorrow. A wave tossed in the ocean. A vapor in the wind. Life is just so short. Most people don't get it though. Instead their tempers flare at the impatient moments of our days. Yesterday Las Vegas, today - Matthew and tomorrow-Avery. There will be music and dance too; sometime - somewhere.

Thanks Nancy and Chris for a marvelous time in the city that never sleeps. And, neither did we, not much anyway!

Love, Deb (aka - Debbie to close friends and family)

Precious Daughters, sons and Dancing

Today I am thinking of Daughters and wanted to write about some daughters that have been in my thoughts lately. But, being very diplomatic and not wanting to step on toes, I had to put sons in the title of this entry... Since my two sons mean the world to me...but this writing is about girls - so boys ...beware!

Yesterday, as I was checking email and babysitting at the same time, I had been holding little Avery and decided I would put her up on my big bare desk on her back and watch her VERY VERY CAREFULLY. As I was emailing and watching her like a hawk, she was loving lying on this hard surface. All of a sudden she did a quick twist and was almost turning over. Seeing what she was trying to accomplish, I propped a few 'safe' items out of her reach at shoulder level...just enough to urge her on. One more twist and she had turned. Her first roll-over from back to stomach. With her right arm stuck under her chest, she grunted, wiggled and freed it. Excited..I immediately picked up the phone and called her daddy. "Ty, at 9:50am today, your daughter rolled over for the first time!" Explaining the circumstances, he immediately told me to get her off the top of my desk. Being a good grandma, I reassured him, I would watch her 'like a hawk'. This rollover was exciting to see. Of course, I would have traded places with her mommy in an instant for her mom to have seen it first. And, like a little champ, she repeated her new feat for daddy when he came for lunch. And again last evening for her mommy.

Last evening I went to GRIEF SHARE group with my friend who is a widow of 8 weeks. It was on losing one's spouse - aka "OUR TERRITORY". On the way down to Red Wing, Diane told me how she had had one of those days where it just doesn't seem like he should be gone, a "it can't be" day. I immediately got goosebumps. I knew exactly what she was talking about. When these goosebumps overcome me, I sense it it a physical reaction to this deep unknown emotional psychological chasm that may be connecting me to Bruce and his spirit. The area where our souls connect.
Diane has a daughter that is pregnant and she is worried about her. Is the impact of losing her father affecting her pregnancy? Some early contractions have caused this concern. And, of course the thought that she doesn't want this baby to be at risk.

As the evening progressed, we watched a video about losing one's spouse. An area that greatly affected me was when they talked about having a daughter and that her father wouldn't be there to walk her down the aisle. I immediately found myself sitting up straighter and paying more attention. This was an area of great concern for me when we found out Bruce's stage IV cancer diagnosis. It was important to Abby our daughter as well. I remember one night she and I lying in bed crying together about the 'how, what, when and where ' of her wedding day. During the discussion last night, I brought up my concerns. And with them, the choking sobbing tears ran. There is a couple there that just lost there young twenty yr old daughter. He had talked to me just a minute before our group started. A farmer, he shared how he sometimes just loses it in the tractor out in the field. We talked about the safeness of a cab or a car to let our emotions run free. So, as I shared how this affected me, of course, it affected this couple and many of the others in the group. Tears flowed everywhere.

Our daughter is a tough cookie. A good mix of Bruce's personality, and a little of me drives her onward too. She is stubborn, straightforward, smarter than the average person and talented in so many ways. She has been going through her medical school years meeting every challenge head on, determined to do her best and be her best. In the past few weeks, she too has been going through an emotional upheaval. The unknown future is scary. In the midst of filling out applications for her residency program, and continuing with her medical school rotations, she has a full plate each and every waking moment. The love of her life is also going through an emotional season. A long term-long distant relationship is nearly impossible for the majority of young couples. This couple has stood the test of time. What can a mom of a 27 year old do to help? Prayers are said for her throughout my day.

On today's opinion page of the newspaper, Leonard Pitt's wrote about Life's Lessons, entitled -

The only way to dance

- you see he is turning 50 years old and is trying to make sense of his life. Why some things happen to some of us, how others survive the near death life moments more than once, and for myself and others who have lost a spouse - why? Sometimes there just isn't an answer. Sometimes there is no way to understand all, but instead to accept what is - to cherish the NOW..there is no finish line in life. Some of us are given a chance to DANCE... to live, to love, to continue on with our life. He writes that to be seen doing these things like dancing and laughing and having a good time is the affirmation. The testimony to the living of the stubborn resilience of life. I like his thoughts.

At the end of our group last night, four of us stood to visit, delaying our departure. The idea that we have no control was brought up. The worst that life has to offer has happened to us. We have lost the love of our lives. No matter what we did to try to delay, stop, change the circumstances - it happened. This experience changes some of us. We begin to think we can't change what really happens to us tomorrow or the next day. Therefore, living in the moment becomes so much more important.

This morning, I put Avery back up on my desk - watching her like a hawk! I put on this CD that has music that comforts me and her. I thought she might try to roll over, but instead she was staring at the ceiling. I looked up there too. The contented look in her eyes, her little smiles and smirks made me wonder. Was she seeing something I couldn't see? Was her grandpa smiling at her, making faces and talking to her. Was he telling her what a cute baby girl she is? Was he telling her that he can't wait to watch her dance, just like he watched his own precious daughter? Well, that is what I am going to believe anyway.

Maybe we should all think about doing a little dance today.
Deb

Eight Months - still counting

Yesterday, the THIRD of October at 10:45 pm marked Bruce's 8 month that he has been gone from my side. As I climbed into bed last night, my clock read 10:38. Yes, I was fully aware of the time as it was marching on and marking in my heart and head. As I put my head on my pillow, swept my long hair that has grown longer in these 8 months up off of my neck and became aware of my solitary existence...I thought only for a few minutes before sleep came as a gift. My routine is to place my extra pillows on Bruce's side of the bed. Placing his extra pillow in a row, so that there seems to be his presence even in his absence. I then stretch my arm under his head, under his pillow and whisper "Good Night Honey, I love you"... just how long I will continue to do this, I just can't say, but for now...it gives me solace.

The last few days have been filled with so much emotion. A good friend of ours has been visiting. The Coconut Cream Pie maker, our Food Editor and Chief ZANY Red-headed one-of-a-kind friend arrived on Monday in her mini-Cooper from Des Moines to HANG-OUT' with me and baby Avery for a few days. I can't believe her memory storage capabilities of past conversations and tidbits of information she can so easily recall. What a gift that is. And, what a gift it was to have her be with me. We did all sorts of just regular stuff. We stayed up late talking, we stayed in our pj's until almost noon one day, we went to the Apple Orchard, we took Baby Avery out of state -to MN- after getting special permission from her parents, we went to the Grand-Ole-Ice Cream store in Hastings, we visited Avery's mommy at her work...we went grocery shopping...we went to the cemetery two times. It was fun and sometimes not fun for both of us. But, in the end we agreed that is was 'so good' for both of us!

Last evening as the clear starry night was all about us, we drove back into River Falls. I had taken her to a wonderful little restaurant in Hudson for a glass of wine and some good food. I asked Sandra if she thought it crazy of me to want to just drive up through the cemetery on our way home. She said, what I needed to hear. "No, Deb - I would LOVE to go with you to the cemetery!" My eyes filled with tears. I had just been laughing hilariously fifteen-seconds prior. Now, I was snorting and crying and laughing all at once. Driving past the bright and lively lit ball field, we could barely see the dark and quiet entrance to the cemetery. As our eyes adjusted to the darkness, I drove slowly up the long lane. Sandra said eagerly, "Can we see his light from here?" You see, we had been there just the day before in the rain, Sandra had bought a beautiful mum to put on his grave. She now knew where he was. As we both craned our necks up the hill, soon little flickering lights became visible. The one and only green lantern marking Bruce's spot came into view. "There he is" I said. Backing up, turning around and driving back past him one more time...we both turned to seek out that light. "I know he really isn't here, just what physically is left of him", I said. "But,it does make me feel better to come up here once in awhile". And, Sandra agreed with me.

It must be hard to be a friend to a widow. Especially when you have a husband and a life that is going on in a regular sort of way. I am so grateful to all of my friends. Our couples-friends, I am finding that I can be actually HAPPY for THEM again. It has taken me a while to get to this point. When in my shoes, one finds themselves so consumed with our loss, that it just seems unfair that others can have such happiness. I know it is this passage of time that is allowing me to resume some normal behaviors again. I am not acting like such a little brat, the jealousy is dissipating when I see a happy loving couple together. Yesterday, one of my widow friends e-mailed me. She KNOWS how important those numbers are. She has marked her calendar and every THIRD of each month, she has sent me an email...saying that she is thinking of me especially on that day! It may seem little to some, but to me - that gesture is huge. I want to begin incorporating that same gesture to other women who are suddenly alone.

Ty went to an Insurance Business partners meeting last week. It would have been a meeting, he and his father would have gone to together. It was an overnighter. Bruce always looked forward to these meetings with an anticipation much like a Holiday. I know how much fun he had. How much fun he was. He could be their resident comedian at times, I am sure. I loved the fact that he enjoyed his business and his business partners so much and that their feelings for him were mutual. He would come home and give me an abbreviated condensed version of the hilarious moments and what all went down! When Ty returned, he called to tell me all of what had happened. Bruce had received an award, but was too ill last January to attend the meeting. So, it was given to Ty. He told how they shared 'Bruce stories, and Bruce moments. They all had a 'shot', a toast in his memory! As we talked on the phone and he was filling me in on all of this information, I again got all weepy and sad. It just hits me, my loss, our loss...that he is soooo GONE from our lives. As I recover and move beyond these sad moments I still have. I accept the feelings I experience. Love doesn't just go away for someone when they are no longer in our physical presence.

This counting of moments and months is important. I see myself getting stronger and accepting my lot in life more each day. No, I still don't like it, but I am seeing many more bright moments these days. Little Avery is 4 MONTHS old today. She is my light. Her little smile and dancing eyes can add thousands of volts to my heart. As I shared her with my good friend, she too found this energy that a little new life brings to ones own. She also pointed out as an observer how awesome it was watching a generation (me) pass on my parenting tricks to to another generation (Ty, my son) - teaching him how to get her to make her first loud giggles...

Yes, this retelling and counting of moments are my blessings for today. And, thank you to all of my wonderful friends who keep me going, making these months special by keeping Bruce's memory alive. I, and my children thank you from the bottoms of our hearts. Deb

The Wonder Years

I know that the television show The Wonder Years was played in our home and still is watched in reruns and re-reruns by the boys in particular. I don't even know the characters' names, but I do know this. The telling of a family story via that show, was an important part of our household. For me it was The Waltons. Growing up in the country on a farm, I related very easily to this particular show that aired in the 70's. John-Boy and Ralphie, both had a way of telling their story, their family story that caught one's imagination and gripped tight to one's heartstrings. As viewers watched these shows about families, they could see parts of themselves in the lives of others.


Lately I have had the words The Wonder Years roaming in my head. I never know exactly where these thougthts I am thinking are coming from, but I feel as if I need to act on them when they appear. Especially if I find myself thinking them over and over again. So, what was the Wonder Years? I wonder (to speculate curiously), if it was my life as wife and mom...wondering if that is what my heart and head are trying to figure out. Other synonyms for the word wonder are awesome, marvelous, miraculous and remarkable. In writing all of this nonsense, it strikes me as how often one uses the same word in a different form. Anyway, all of the above is just food for thought today.


The new televison season is upon us. If Bruce would be here, he would be all geared up and excited for his favorite shows. To name a few they were; Boston Legal, 24 hours, Prison Break and The OFFICE and anything on the Cooking Channels. He and Abby would sit for hours if they had the time, and watch cooking shows together. I loved the time they were able to do this. What a gift it was for both of them! These rounded out his most beloved shows last fall. Except of course for any sports that might be on -ie; Baseball series, Iowa Hawkeyes, Vikings -especially if they were winning! I would be the Good Wife and come down into our family room and be somewhat interested in some of these shows. Of course, my favorite shows are anything on HGTV, Dancing with the Stars and American Idol. Bruce also loved American Idol. Being a music major his first two years of college, he did have a VOICE, a SINGING VOICE that could have gone places if he had so chosen! But, instead he became my one an only! An above average husband, father and brother! He loved his family more than life itself. He also loved his down time, his off-work at home time. He loved just being entertained when he wasn't entertaining others. He would change out of his work day attire, which was usually jeans/shorts or khakis and into his favorite sweats or pj bottoms and his favorite sweatshirt/ t-shirt and just be BRUCE.

I am thinking about his attire, as right now, my desk is filled with pieces of his past. I have begun cutting up his clothes into pieces for quilts. What a labor of love this is! I can't help but think about the family quilt that hangs on my living room wall. It belonged to Bruce's mother, Donna. She would say to me, "here is the quilt top that my Grandma VanOsdoll made for me when I was a little girl!" In amazement, I would look at this folded mass of patchwork crazy quilt that had never been completed. After we moved Bruce's mom to the River Falls Nursing home, I took the quilt top, had it repaired and it now hangs in our living room. I wonder now...whose clothes these scraps of fabrics belonged to. What was the story behind these scraps of fabrics. I also wonder if quilting not only came about as a way to use up old clothes, but to recycle the clothes of loved ones that had passed. Perhaps one day, I will have to research the history of quilting and figure this out. But for now, I am back into the present day and looking at the scraps of fabric that one year ago was in our laundry every week. Or in my iron pile to 'do up'. Even though his shirts were permament press, me being from the old school would have to iron them just a little to make them look presentable! Included in these 8 piles of perfectly cut shapes are Bruce's favorite 'lounging attire'- a pair of blue plaid drawstring flannel pj bottoms that are now cut into perfectly shaped pieces. His burgundy shirts that he wore usually under a sweater vest have been lovingly taken apart, straightened, ironed and recut into pieces.

Yesterday, as I was babysitting for little Avery, I sat her up on my large workdesk amidst the scraps of fabric. With my sewing machine buzzing, the iron on and pressing the newly sewn 12 x 12 squares for a crazy quilt, she dozed. I turned on my computer and put in the burned CD of the songs that we found comforting during the funeral and memorial video we had made. "Only the Good Die Young" by Elton John, "Somewhere over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful Life" montage and the Christian song,"I can only imagine" played and replayed. Yes, a few tears fell as usual. Sewing away, ironing away, looking at my little angel just a-snoozing away,I thought about how much my life has changed in just such a short time. This no doubt causes those emotional aqua-ducts to overflow.

One day when she is older, I will show her the photo I took of her sitting amidst this crazy quilt mess. I may even share these words with her. She, one day may share this story with her children and perhaps her grandchildren of what an important part she played in her grandma's life. How she helped soothe those sad moments with her smile and her bright sparkling eyes. Maybe she will even have a quilt to prove the story she tells. Her story will be real.

The imprints we leave on others is never quite known by some. As one grows older, one realizes just how important these little moments in our days become. So, it is today. As I type this final paragraph, I have turned on my iron and am getting ready to continue with my project of recycling Bruce's clothes and my love for him for the next generation. Avery has just awoke, she is waiting for her grandma to make a silly face at her. Gotta go.

Enjoy today.
Deb

Knowing where one is in life!

My newest friend who is in the same LIFE-RAFT with me, wrote me an email recently and said, "I know where I am and it really sucks but I might as well get used to it." Her husband died suddenly mid-August. I was so surprised and envious of her statement. I don't think I was that lucid and knowing - one month after Bruce had died. In fact, I think I had just REALIZED that he was dead and not coming back. And was just plain mad!
Her down-to-earth approach about her dilemma makes total sense to me. And, yet...maybe she too will have slips of realization, steps back in time and wanting it to all be like it was. Because, that is how it was for me. Sometimes I still am that way.

We are going to form a support group here in our town. Two other gals who have been in the LIFE-RAFT a bit longer than Diane and myself are helping me get this off of the ground. They, I believe are in the front of the boat. This entire LIFE RAFT thought has been in my fore-thinking recently. I feel like I am bobbing on this sea of life up and down, just like that feeling you have when you are out on a big body of water. When you can't see the shore, not knowing in which direction you are really heading or where one is going to land. I know where I am at, and that I am safe, but I don't know what the future is going to hold. And, that is what bothers women like myself and my new friend, Diane.

We felt so safe in our relationships. The common everyday safeness married couples feel. Like, how you will see one another again at the end of the day, that there will be a tomorrow, and that your common dreams and goals are being fulfilled. When death strikes - the survivor is like a fish out of water and all other similar analogies. One half of who we were is no longer there.

No one prepares themselves for this I believe. Instead, we act much like how the general public acts. IGNORING what may happen to our better/other half and putting off talking about important subject matter. Just like Bruce and I did all last fall and the summer before that, etc. Even though I was worried and had a suspicion that something wasn't right, rarely did I convey my worries to him. Instead, I delved into my work, my life, my studies. I, at times actually made fun of his health and confess now, was a sarcastic snob (on occassion) Yes, I am very human! These manuevers that one does to get through our days are; I now believe, what one has to do to survive our life sitautions we find ourselves in.

Three of us widows met for dinner on Friday evening. Sitting in a booth at a local restaurant, we found ourselves between smiles, laughter, tears and much empathy for one another, especially for the newest member in our "club". Our conversation ranged from feelings we have, our love we had for our husbands, casket viewing, stone markers and reliving our individual death experiences. As we ate and visited, we couldn't help wonder what the other patrons were thinking if they were overhearing bits and pieces of our conversations. It usually isn't what one wants to think about on a TGIF night over dinner is it?

Sunday, I went with a friend to an art fair. She too, has suffered a loss. Her grief experience being one of a mom is different than mine, but ... as we walked through the different booths we were both looking for things for the gravesite. She said, "isn't it funny how we are still shopping for them?" I found three things. I bought a little hat for baby Avery. I found a colored glass wind-chime thing for myself that has a copper dragon-fly and a bell on the end. The dragon-fly has come to represent death and it's transformation to me. ( I received a card with a story about it that has helped comfort me about Bruce's new existance ) And then, I found something that brought me to tears. It was a garden stake with one word written in cursive at the top. It was perfect. As I saw it, I immediately knew I had to get it to put out in the cemetary with Bruce. It WAS Bruce..It defined him in so many ways. This one simple everyday common word elicited my deepest feelings for Bruce. Even now, as I press on the keyboard, my eyes well with tears of love. The word is LAUGH! Bruce's laughter filled the room. He had a gut cackling laugh that got louder the more it spewed out of his mouth. It was breathy and deep. I loved his laughter, except of course when we were out in public at some venue where his laugh would take up more space than was politically correct. One time we were in Las Vegas at a small comedy club and the comedian was up on stage making us laugh. Bruce was laughing at his jokes and he directly looked at Bruce and mimimicked Bruce's laugh! Many of our friends and family know what I am talking about with his signature laugh. One time at my folks, Bruce laughed so hard, he fainted, falling off their bar stool - it scared me to death! He just lay there a brief half-minute, opened his eyes and said, "What happened?!" Maybe today, I will take it out to the cemetary. It is a rainy on and off sort of Fall day. The kind of day, that seems a fitting day to put the word LAUGH out in a cemetary don't you think?

Last night I attended a Grief Group with my new friend. She had told me about it and very matter-of-factly that she was going! Her husband died one month ago and she was already diving into a grief group. Bruce has been gone for 7 months and even though many people have suggested I go, I have put it off. I of course, felt I was grieving just fine by myself. Sometimes even suggestions from others seem like I am being told what to do. The real truth of the matter, is I don't like to go places by myself. I would rather stay home than go somewhere by myself. But, I didn't want her going alone, so I volunteered to "go with her"... one of my favorite roles in life is a supporter!! Lance, my son asked me where was I going when he saw me reapplying makeup. I told him in a reluctanct manner, that I was attending this grief group, it is Christian based. And, that I wasn't excited about going. Because of confidentiality, I can't tell you all that I experienced. There were about 10 men and women there and 2 facillitators. Some were like me and my friend, who have lost our husbands. Some have lost a young adult child to all sorts of deaths. All of our stories are different, but we share one thing in common, we have all lost someone who we loved and cared for deeply. It will be every week for 12 weeks. I do plan to go back and even think I could go alone. I know most of what I hear isn't going to be new. But, it will give me an even stronger and broader foundation that I can fall back on as I go forward in my life.

Journaling was brought up last evening at the grief meeting. I know for me, it has been like an oar that I can pick up and put in my hands and move my boat along if I so choose. I see my progress as I sign-in to my account. Each month, as I move out beyond the date of Bruce's death, I see I have blogged less. Whether I have less to say, is another subject matter. But the need to say what I am saying is lessening.

I continue to be supported and loved, feeling so connected to so many people who have been in my life forever. And yet, I am picking up new friends whom I would have never met had it not been for me losing Bruce. This was something that Diane and I realized as we said good-bye last night. This tapestry of existance we all share is just that. Fibers of beings crisscross one another in ways that may only become clear sometime in our forever future. For now, life is happening. Little Avery is moving and squiggling in my lap - kicking at the keyboard and my hands. Yes, she is in my liferaft with me. This is today. Enjoy yours too. Deb

Blessings in Disquise - Go Hawks

One day this week, I woke with a start to the words, "Blessing in Disquise" in my head. It was the answer I was looking for. This past week had been a combination of highs and lows. The highs being the celebration of my parent's anniversary and all of the hoopla that that event involved. The low included my stubborn decision to leave the baby case I worked so hard to get initiated this spring. Back in the spring, I felt the entire process was a "God-Thing". I really didn't work that hard at finding all of the nurses who eventually helped us get this baby home. Some stayed and some left through the summer as he has grown and his parents have adjusted to caring for him themselves. Adjusting to having people in their home has been more difficult. Adjusting to having nurses care for their baby also was more difficult. And, that became the issue. It was a long 8 hours one spent doing nothing while the mom scurried to do everything before the nurse could do it. After a few discussions with the parents, I saw that this wasn't going to change and that I needed to gracefully as possible leave this case. Since I am not a quitter and can put up a good fight to the bitter end. (Yes, I once told Bruce, "if I had to I would fly a 747 - or at least give it a good try!") I found myself doing that. Lessons even at age 54 continue to be learned, even when one feels they are in the right, know more and could be of service! Being told by these parents, they no longer needed my services was a hard pill to swallow, yet - I am a big girl, (have my big-girl pants on) and have found myself adjusting to their words. So, the answer I received at 4am was a soothing balm. There is something else I am needed for. And, in essence, I had accomplished what I had set out to do. That was, to get this baby home with his mom and dad.

So, what else am I supposed to be doing? That is a very big question. But, some of the things are surfacing.
BLESSING IIn August, another woman I do not know lost her husband. Two of my co-horts (women who have also lost their husbands) knew her and promptly informed me. Her husband died of a heart attack at home in her presence. One of the things that feels good for me to do, is to send a card that I found comforting - to other women who have lost their mates. So, off in the mail I sent this card to this woman I don't know with a little note, telling her I know what she is going through and if there was anything I could do for her to call me. I included my phone number. Last Friday when I got home from work, there was a message from her. Her words were interrupted with tears of grief, my heart went out to her and I immediately called her. She since has called me one more time and yesterday, she came for coffee. With little baby Avery tucked under my arm, as we locked eyes for the first time, we wrapped our arms around one another tightly and held on. We are both in this boat of grief on a sea of wild up and down waves. I, being there just a little longer know what she is in for. We talked and cried for three hours straight. She too, like me and many others in the boat, has lost her soul mate, her lover, her best friend, her confindante, her other-half. Her everything! At least that is what it feels like now. She is trying to figure out this grief thing, heal herself and wants to get through this time. She is doing it right. She reached out to someone else. And, I am so thankful that I was and will be here for her. She said, "I want to do one day what you did for me!" WOW...what powerful words those were to hear.

BLESSING II Being availble a little more to help care for my granddaughter is an absolute gift. I love babies! So, until November 15 - I can help a little more caring for her when I am not caring for Matt. I love watching the minute little changes that are occuring in Avery. She is such a little wild-girl already. She never sits still, wants to be in the know - so it is so fun to watch her little personality developing.

BLESSING III Several years ago in one of the many workshops I went to with Weekenders. There was one on purposefull living. What was my purpose? What was the driver inside of me? It was a good time to reflect on strengths and weaknesses. We were to come up with a statement of purpose. Our mantra that defined who were were and how we operated. Mine seemed simple at the time. It was "TO HELP OTHERS HAVE A BETTER DAY" A book I had read called "Repacking your Bags" had a quote that kept me centered then and now, it defined THE GOOD LIFE as Living in the place you belong with the people you love, doing the right work on purpose! Memorizing verses and quotes has never been my forte', but that quote continues to be at the top.

BLESSINGS IV Yesterday when my new friend and I were visiting, we decided that the QUALITY of our relationships with our husbands was like Cream...it was the best.. Cream rises to the top of milk. The QUANTITY is little, but the QUALITY is superb!
That will continue always to be a blessing for me. My time with Bruce and our family, the way it was - memories never die, they live on. My childhood memories, all of the memories with my parents and fmaily will always live on as well!


BLESSINGS V Today is the first home game for the Iowa Hawks - When we took our son, Lance down to orientation his freshman year, they talked about 'BLEEDING BLACK & GOLD' - the fans are die-hards. Bruce was a die-hard Iowa Hawkeye fan. He lived, ate and breathed sports daily. He taught our sons to do the same. Ty got the full brunt of Bruce's love of sports being the first born son. Going to games together just he and Bruce in the beginning has left deep memories for Ty. He asked me a few weeks ago what I was doing on the 8th of September. I was scheduled to work with Matt today. So last week, I checked with another nurse to see if she would work or trade with me and she said YES! I was thrilled to think that first, Ty had asked me to go with him and second, that I actually could. So, today at noon, we will leave RF for the 5 hour drive to Iowa City. The game in an evening game, then we will drive an hour to my folks, crash for the night and come back tomorrow morning. I hope the day is filled with all things good. Yes, sadness and tears may spill out. The guys who sat next to the boys all last year don't even know about Bruce. I have pulled out Bruce bright yellow-gold GO Hawks shirt to wear to the game. Ty can give me a PRIMER on the trip down ... it will be a good day with my son. And that is how I will end this blog. GO HAWKS - WIN

Blessings to you and yours. Deb

Number Seven

Today, tonight marks the 7th Month date of Bruce's death. Tired evades me this evening. Oh...I did doze a minute in front of the television, but woke about 10:30pm. Since then, I have folded some clothes, sent off a few emails and now will write before putting my head on my pillow. Actually ~ the day went well. It is Labor Day. Every Labor Day for many years, Bruce would be getting ready and leaving by 1 pm to head up north somewhere to meet up with the guys to go golfing. All of his Insurance buddies that he had such fun with. He would be gone for two nights, returning on Wednesday. Over the years, I did get used to him leaving on this Holiday in the middle of the day. I would usually find some project to do. Last year, I was refinishing our old dining room table. An heirloom from Bruce's folks.
And then, when he returned last year from his golf outing, he complained about his lower leg and ankle. It was red, warm and streaking up his leg. I knew he had a blood clot. He went to the Dr., and ultrasound was done. He thought maybe he had bumped it on the golf cart. But ~ now we know, this was the start of his cancer metastasis symptoms. He went on a daily dose of Aspirin and the redness went away, he never complained about his legs hurting again. His mom had gotten blood clots in her legs, so I just figured he was going to suffer from them too. Being not in the best of shape and then driving with his legs dependent, I could see where he could have developed one.

Looking back now, he had been in the hospital in TEXAS just SEVEN months prior to Labor Day last year. For something unrelated or was it now? That is on my list of things to do; to get his records from that visit. He told me a chest x-ray had been taken. I wonder if there might have been evidence of his cancer that might have been overlooked?

A family of SEVEN celebrated a very special occasion this weekend. My parents will be officially married SIXTY years on 9-9-2007. But, because of the long weekend and attempting to get all five of their children home and all of our children there - we chose to take advantage of the extra day. Of the 16 grandchildrer, all were able to make it except for one, who just started her freshman year at UNLV. All 11 Great Grandchildren were present. A good old fashioned family picnic was held! Followed by an OPEN HOUSE for about 75 of mom and dad's closest friends. The weather cooperated and it was such fun to see so many close family friends and relatives. One of my very best girlfriends when I was growing up just happened to be coming back to be with her mom. I had found out on Saturday, so quickly invited her to come to the Open House so that I could see her. It was wonderful visiting if only for a short time with this girlhood friend. We rode bikes, played on Saturdays, and sat in the same seat on school bus number 7 for almost every day of our school years! I plan to go visit her this Fall. She lives in the Washington DC area.

Today, when I was up to the store to pick up a few groceries, I noticed this couple. I was behind them through most of the aisles and we ended up in the same check out lane. What drew them to me, was our age. They appeared to be in my age category. I couldn't help but watch their interactions throughout the store. Much like Bruce and I would do when we went shopping together. As they were getting their groceries bagged the checker asked if they wanted to drive up for their groceries. The wife so, "No, I have him to do that for me!" With her chuckle and the checker's laugh, it was just a moment that seemed so unfair. Here I was right behind them, with my few groceries that I could certainly handle by myself. Her lighthearted remark was meant only at that, yet it left such an imprint in my ear. I smiled... they went on their way and I did the same. Missing my "him".

The past SEVEN DAYS have been good. I have handled what life has thrown me with a bit of maturity. I sold Bruce's car and handled the transaction with only a few tears. I have taken more of his clothes to our local thrift store. I am accepting my lot in life this week. On this upcoming Saturday, I am going with Ty to the first home game of the Iowa Hawkeyes. I went with Bruce to the last game he saw his beloved team play.I feel it is meant to be that I go with our son to the first game of the new season.

I lost one of my diamond earrings a few weeks ago. I just happened to notice it wasn't in my ear. They weren't the pair Bruce had given me, but I still liked them and wore this pair a lot. I was disappointed but had decided it was probably impossible to find. I had lost my wedding ring one summer year ago when the kids were in grade school. Taking it off of my finger to put on a pair of pantyhose one morning, I had left it on my bed. The kids had a day off from school and had been in and out of our bedroom watching t.v. all day. I realized that evening at a meeting that it wasn't on my finger. It was later in the week that I had time to look for it. With hardwood floors in our bedroom, I thought it would be under the bed. I swept, I looked, I kept looking wondering where it could have been. I asked Bruce if he had vacumned and he had. Our vacumn cleaner at the time was a Rainbow. You filled up the bottom with clean water, then you set about to vacumn and when you were done, it was dirty muddy water! I always felt like I had really cleaned when I would dump out that water. Well, I went out side and searched through the areas where we would dump this muck. This time of year, while I was gone one Saturday, Bruce and Abby were digging carrots, turning over dirt and guess what they found? Yes, my ring. I was so ecstatic! Bruce had an eye for finding things. So...today, while I was vacumning up downstairs, guess what I found? Yes! My earring. It was on the steps. I was so excited. I decided my personal guardian angel was helping me look for things. As I was relating this to Lance later - he told me that he had found it and put it there! Well, whatever the outcome, I have my ring and my earring!

All of these minutes and moments and occurrances that are part of my life is my movie playing out. I don't know what the ending is going to be like. But for now... I am going on another week, another month without him. Till next week! Deb

Milestones ...aka Stone Markers

I have been wanting to write but last week I felt thick, stalled, stuck. I was in a funk. The 25th of August, our anniversary was fast approaching. I could not wrap my mind totally around it, instead my heart was working overtime remembering 34 years of a life that is now considered over -that being my married years.

On Monday of last week, I called out to the monument place to see how the STONE MARKER was coming for Bruce. It was something that had been ordered way back in April. We knew it was going to be mid-summer before this slab of black marble arrived from China. I knew it was in. So, what would it hurt, if I called out and asked them, to see if there was any possible way it could be in the cemetary for Saturday ~our Anniversary. The young man that had answered the phone was the same young man that Lance and I had seen just a few weeks before. He helped us complete the wording, the font style and quote. On MOnday, he said in his monument jargon talk that is was in line to be lettered. I then asked, "if there would be anyway that it might be able to be put before the weekend?" He hemmed and hawed just a bit and then said, he thought so and then the pause and dreaded question came, "Is there a special occasion that you want if up for?" Those words threw me...and the sobs came, the words didn't, except for a grunt of a "uh-huh". I am sure, he has had many a widow do this to him. He then said, if the weather cooperated, he thought it would be able to be done.

So, all week long, I waited. I finished Avery's Baptismal Gown, made her a little bonnet, sewed buttons from a shirt of Bruce's onto the back of her gown and waited some more. I just couldn't get anything else accomplished. I listened to music, I would find myself sobbing and remembering all of those years that had gone by. I babysat one day and worked three more. And then, Friday arrived. I had planned to meet up with a friend who has also lost her husband for the evening. It was their anniversary that day. We had decided to go out to dinner, and remember, aka ~commiserate together. We sat and visited, reminiscing the years of our wedded lives. The food was good. Both of us enjoyed our time together ~but in essence~ we just aren't that happy YET! She has been a widow for three years. Her story is different than mine, but the common denominator was that we both had guys who loved us and we them! Our lives were complete the way it was. We don't feel complete anymore.

As I came back into River Falls that evening, I kept thinking I wanted to go see if the monument had been put up. I also needed to stop at the grocery store. My mind was spinning, should I go up there first? should I get the few items I needed at the store? what if it wasn't up? ....I decided to stop at the store first. As I got into my car in the grocery store parking lot, it was as if I was waiting to see if Santa had delivered the presents as I drove the 3 miles to the cemetary. I tried to talk myself into not being disappointed, if it wasn't there. At 9:45pm on August 24 in River Falls, WI., it was dark. The baseball field next door was lit up, a game was still going on. I pulled into the driveway and slowly made my way up, wondering if I was breaking some city ordinance being in the cemetary after dark. As I slowly drove up and kept my eyes peeled in the northeast corner of the cemetary, I saw it! The small flickering green eternal candle we had installed on the side of his marker. I probably was talking outloud to myself. "It is up, yes...it is here!" I parked the car, opened the door and walked the 20 feet up to the marker. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw our name in bold caps, against the black marble. Tears and sobs came without urging. Here I was on a Friday evening, up in the cemetary crying...half excited and half sad. I touched the cold smooth marble, the rough textured sides and walked around the back to see the inscription we had decided upon. "It is not length of life, but depth of life. ~Emerson and then underneath of the quote, the paraphrase; "he jumped into life and never touched bottom". It looked good. It looked taller than I had imagined. It looked like Bruce. I went back to the car and grabbed my camera and came back to take a few photos. In my black patent heels, my toes felt the wet earth. I found the flower planter, the angel, windchimes and Iowas Hawkeye car decal lying off to the side, forgotten by someone to place back on his grave. As I gathered up these items, I gently rubbed off the dew, dirt and sand...and placed them, rearranging them as if it were my living room, in just the right way. I stood for a few moments. The game noise was over my shoulder. Other lives going on in a regular fashion on this Friday night. Memories of days gone by came fleeting into my conscience. Bruce played softball, fast pitch I believe, he was the catcher. Ty was just a baby. Could it have been 29 years ago already?

Milestones, large stone markers ...were first used in Rome to mark the Roman Highway...1000paces equaled a mile. The word has now gone through many transformations and we use it in many areas of our lives to demonstrate the progress one has made.

Little Avery is now almost 3 months old. We are closely watching her developmental milestones. She has learned to smile. She is rolling from side to side. She is bringing her hands to midline and grasping objects. She is cooing and learning to become social. In a healthy newborn, we tend to accept these steps and not pay too much attention to their significance. Yet, it is such a marvel...all of these firsts that we see her do.

ON SAturday, the kids were very conscience of just how important this day was to me. Abby was the first to acknowledge it. Of course, with each acknowledgement, the flood gates opened. She said, "Mom, I am so sorry, I know this has has to be so hard on you!" Then Ty came over. He gave me a hug, said "Happy Anniversary Mom, I just wanted to come and give you a hug today". Then Lance came home. He didn't say anything. Instead, he said he wanted to help me clean out the rain gutters. It had been a project we had talked about doing in the early spring. As we worked together outside, it helped pass the time. I said to him, "It up!" He said, "Oh....it's up is it?" As we finished our project...Abby mowed the lawn and we spent time together as a family outside on a beautiful August day. As 2 O'Clock (the time we had said "I DO")came and went, I found myself settling into this life of mine. I wasn't going to evaporate, or turn into a pumpkin...it was just another day. I got into the car, drove to the store, bought a longstemmed rose and a helium balloon that was shaped like two hearts and said, "Happy Anniversary"and went up to the cemetary. I stood and watered the plant, fiddled with the balloon and thought. Words just couldn't be said. My heart had already said the words I couldn't say outloud. I loved Bruce for over 35 years. I would tell him the last month he was alive how much I loved him. I would say, "I love you more today than I did yesterday and I am going to love you more tomorrow than today!" Let's get this straight. He wasn't a saint in his earthly life. But, he was mine, my one and only. We do grieve as deeply as we were in love. For me, I am grieving very deeply.

As, I was about to leave the cemetary, Lance came riding up on his bike. I got back out of the car and we walked up together. He put his arm around me and said, "it looks good mom, it's bigger than I expected! Dad would have liked it!" The quote was one that Lance had selected. Later on that evening, Ty and I sat and visited. We agreed, that it felt good to see his Stone Marker up.

Our friends who have been near and dear to us throughout the years celebrated their 50th Anniversary on Sunday. I so wanted to go to their open house ~but not alone! I ended up going by myself, timing it, so that I wouldn't be there too long. Not knowing very many people, I sat and watched their video. As Marge came up to greet me and me her, we hugged. Both of us had tears for Bruce that day. I am glad that I went to their celebration. What fun and good people they are. So much like Bruce and I. To me, their life has been a fairy tale. They met and fell in love, had a family, lived and worked together, made it through good times and bad. They are living their Happily Ever After.

The Blues

I have been thinking a lot lately about this first car that Bruce had. It was a Blue CHEVY NOVA, year - '68 I believe. When we met way back in the Fall of 1971, Bruce was a sophomore in college without a car. I was a freshman at Nursing School. Because I lived at the hospital in the nursing dorms across town...he was borrowing friends' cars to come see me. I believe it was in the spring of 1972, when he and I went to his home for a weekend and went car shopping with his folks.

Bruce's mom was a nurse, and me being in nursing school - well, we hit it off right away! She was standing at the top of the stairs at the backdoor entrance when we arrived the very first time home. She had just come home from working the day shift. (I was probably the first girl Bruce ever introduced to his parents and I know the first girl to go home for a weekend with him.)In her spray-starched white dress uniform, white nurse's support hose and her white polished shoes; she filled the ideal picture of your 1970's middle-aged nurse. She filled out her uniform too. You see, Donna loved to eat; in fact, I am sure that is where Bruce learned his love of food. Her food was wonderful too. When we would call to tell her we were coming home, right away her first comments were, "Good, I will fix some good food for you to eat!" She meant it too. Potatoes, meat, vegetables, fruit and bread at almost every meal. She didn't skimp on amounts or ingredients.

Donna was well respected in her community as a nurse. She was the DAY CHARGE NURSE at a small county hospital. She had been in attendance at many deliveries of babies. Everyone knew Donna and loved her. She had white hair when I met her, but she was a red head at heart and her temper and wit matched her hair color. Firey and full of spit and vinegar - she had no problem stating how she felt, how she thought you should feel and how she thought it must be done. Especially, in a hospital setting during an emergency, she made sure things got done. She was the kind of nurse who had a big heart, cared for her patients and loved her work! Many evenings after dinner, we would sit at the kitchen table and listen to her hospital tales while she sat and cleared the table, deboned the meat or finished off that last little bit of potatoes and gravy. She was definitely one of a kind. Bruce was her son, no doubt! He acquired many of her personality traits. I loved my mother-in-law; I loved her son!

So, as we car shopped, this little sky-blue Chevy nova kept calling our name! Plus, the owner had been one of the Doctors that Donna had worked with in the hospital. It had a good reputation! Jim and Donna bought it for Bruce and we used that car while we were dating into the first few years we were married. It was a cute car and was easy to drive. When Bruce got a job with Wyeth Labs as a detail rep. in 1977, he was given a company car. We didn't need three cars; so we gave it back to Bruce's folks. They in turned sold it for a very good price to one of Bruce's first cousins.

Last August of 2006, we returned to THOR, IA -Bruce's home town community with a population of 300 to attend the towns 150th Year Celebration. We also used the opportunity to take his sister there and have a surprise 50th Birthday party at their home church fellowship hall. The entire weekend was a huge success. Luann is also a lot like her mom in many aspects. Her outgoing personality has never deterred her from making new friends. Because of her developmental disability, she LOVED seeing everyone who made a special effort to celebrate her life with her. This, included her high school special ed teacher! We took a tour of the home place where Bruce, Mike and Luann grew up. The brothers checked out the crops and Kent, the cousin that lives on this home place showed us around through all of the out-buildings. You never know when something you have might come in handy. These buildings are filled with all sorts of treasures and junk! However you might look at it. And, this is where we saw the old Chevy Nova! Under the dirt, farm dust and grime of many years, it was sitting in one of these out-buildings! I said, "Oh Bruce, our car!" It was like seeing an old friend after many years!

After that weekend, neither I, nor Bruce could get that car out of our heads. We talked about it and thought how neat it would be to get it restored. Wondering if it would be worth it, if it were possible and if his cousin might sell it back to us. In the Fall, Bruce said he had sent his cousin an email. We never heard back, at least not to my knowledge. And then, our lives changed. And it wasn't important anymore.

Perhaps it it because our Wedding Anniversary is this next weekend. Perhaps, that is the reason that I find myself remembering and being transported back to that time. When, my life and my future looked so bright!

Baby Eyes
I can tell already that Avery is going to have very pretty blue eyes! Maybe even prettier than her daddy's eyes. (Now, if Bruce were here and he being a betting man, he would place a bet on this for sure!) She is now a smiler and when she smiles, her eyes light up like little neon signs. And then, she does this little quick squinting maneuver when she is really happy! Yesterday as I was fitting her for the BAPTISMAL GOWN I am making for her, Wendy layed her down on my desk...and in the midst of having to try on this outfit, she showed what a good personality she has! Smiling and her little blue eyes a-dancing. What fun she is!

Blue Skies
Late last FALL on a Sunday in early November, I asked Bruce if he would like to go for a walk. He rarely would go on a walk with me, but this day - he said yes. It was a cool crisp sunny bright-blue sky day. The white cumulus clouds were floating high that day. The trees were bare of leaves and the air smelled so good. We walked all the way up to the University and back on the walking paths. I was conscious of just how slow we were walking. I knew it was hard for Bruce. Now, I know it was much harder than he even let on to me. As we turned the last curve on our street about one block from home, I remember clearly looking up at that sky-blue sky and being filled with such grace. I felt so alive and so blessed; yet, I also felt this undercurrent of uncertainty in my heart about Bruce. It now seems like it was a premonition of my life as it was to be.

My favorite color has always been red. My second favorite color is a sea-blue/aqua. That was the color that my bridesmaids dresses were. Bright colors seem to define me. Today I am thinking of sky-blue! Deb

Seeing Clearly

Washing windows have never been a favorite task of mine, but the end results are always so spectacular! My windows have been calling to me all summer long to be cleaned. It has been something up until yesterday, I wanted to do, but yet...could not take action on. It seemed too big, too hard, too difficult to do all by myself. I didn't like the view, but yet...I could not make myself do anything about it. I am thinking now, it was a timing thing. I wasn't suppose to have them clean until yesterday.

My mother is the QUEEN of CLEAN WINDOWS! It is her brand of "Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval". She measures just how clean one's windows are in terms of what kind of housekeeper she might be. Over the years, I have heard her say, "those windows were filthy, just what does she do all day?" Yes, times have changed and it seems that cleaning windows has taken a back seat to a full time job, rearing children and getting them to and from activities, or even sitting and reading a good book, etc. There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in one's day to do it all, including windows. I have always prided my mom and myself on our housekeeping abilities. Neither one of us are perfectionists, but we are damn good. We can put up with little messes just not big ones.

Bruce and I made a good team. He didn't like messes either. He picked up after himself, put away his clothes, and helped keep the living areas neat, but...he didn't like to clean windows. Window cleaning was not on his list of favorites. Therefore, I usually found myself spending one entire day in the spring doing this dreaded task all by myself, while he would be at the office schmoozing with customers. Sometimes, I would have to leave a window for him to help me pop back in. It was always a day that found me heaving, sighing, half frustrated and sweating. Yet, the end results were clear. I would spend minutes every day going from room to room looking out of the clean windows. In the past couple of years,I got a bit smarter and suggested that we do it together on a weekend, pleading it was just too hard to do by myself. Bruce reluctantly ...helped, being my right hand, me doing the real swiping and cleaning, he doing the go-for jobs, inserting and taking out. I miss him, even his reluctant ways.

I have some fun memories of window cleaning. My good friend from Missouri Valley, IA and I would make a week long project out of Spring cleaning. We would jointly clean both of our homes, top to bottom, each room, including windows. In our old two-story Victorian home, the first Spring we lived there, we broke at least three window panes trying to get them up to clean. I was amazed at Christy's thoroughness. I learned a lot from her. Her little sponges, paring knife and screwdriver that she used to clean the grooves of the storm windows, are now part of my cleaning tools. I could not believe how clean she could get all of those corners. It was team tag work for sure and so much fun to do with a friend. Again, after that week...I felt like a Princess in a very clean castle. Moving from room to room admiring our hard work, it would feel so good!

Since I am day-caring now on Tuesdays and Thursdays for my little granddaughter, I had decided I was going to work on windows while she was there this week. To get a head start, before she got there, I began on the big sliding door out to the deck. Finishing up that window, I preceded to the kitchen window. My plan is to clean all of the "public viewing windows first"...hoping I can get this done in this week. Little Avery arrived and my window washing stopped for the rest of the day! As I held her, fed her, played with her...I found myself admiring my sparkling view on the world. It felt good.

I couldn't help think of this task and how I felt as metaphors for my current life situation. Hard as some days are, making myself swipe at those cloudy streaks helps me see and appreciate all that I have. I have a brand new little baby girl who smiles back at me, a comfortable home that surrounds me with love and memories, friends who have been there through the years to teach me the ropes and a mom that has set standards of excellence. Life is good today. I can see my tomorrow a little more clearly. Enjoy! Deb

A ROAD TRIP

Last weekend, I undertook a huge project. My client, Matt who is totally dependent on nurses to make sure he gets every breath - was invited to a wedding in Iowa. I asked another nurse who cares for him, if she would like to take a ROAD TRIP with us! Any outing is a huge ordeal when you are taking a disabled adult who relies on machines to breathe, clear his airway and maneuver him around. But, knowing our stuff and trusting one another...my friend and cohort in crime was up for the adventure. And, if Matt's van was up for the trip...then we were too.

I have cared for Matt for 20 out of his 22 years. My friend, has cared for him 18 of those 22 years. We know him well. We are two of his many "other mothers". Because my folks live in Iowa in an EARTH HOME, there was a method to my madness. Matt doesn't like stormy weather. He had never been in an Earth home before, and if it did happen to rain or thunder, he would experience what it was like inside one, quiet and very safe. Even if it didn't storm, it was a good excuse to divert the trip. For me and for Matt.

So, Friday noon we departed with his handicap van full of his suppliles. This included 3 plastic containers full of suction catheters, feedings, blue-pads, extra suction machine, extra ventilator, extra car batteries and everything one might think he or she would need to make this 5 hour trip safe and enjoyable. We arrived 7 miles south of Jesup at my parent's home at 6pm. We unloaded and made ourselves to home in their living room. They watched with amazement and wonder. Their sofa became his bed for the night and me and my cohort worked side by side, getting him all settled in. We took turns staying awake with him, while the other one catnapped. The next day... we loaded up and headed to Dubuque, IA to the wedding reception and hotel where we would again unpack and set up and get Matt to the wedding reception. We too, got to attend this beautiful reception.

The three of us holed up in our hotel room for the night, catnapping and sharing the cares that one nurse usually does. It was fun, hard work and tiring all at the same time. None of us, including Matt didn't get much sleep, but no one complained.

We arrived back at Matt's home around 4pm on Sunday. Unloading, putting away, we got him resettled in his own surrounding safely and securely. Without a hitch, this trip was a success for all.

As I got in my car heading west back to River Falls, the late afternoon sky stared back at me. I found the tears flowing down my cheeks. No sobbing, just tears. Were they happy tears? Sad tears? Lonely tears? Proud tears? Perhaps, a combination of tears. I was now going back to my home...which was vacant of others. Abby had left that afternoon to begin her 4th year of Medical school. I knew the house waited for me. So, I picked up the phone and called Ty and Wendy. "Can I come by and hug Avery? - I need an Avery fix!" ,I said. Her little smile greeted me as Ty placed her in my arms. yes, it was just what the Dr. ordered!

Paying if forward feels good. I know I don't do it enough in my life. But...helping others less fortunate than ourselves experience their life from another vantage point gives one a sense of wellbeing.

It rained while we were in the Earth home, but it didn't thunder. Matt got to see the old farm house where I grew up. He got to see the big Mississippi River at Dubuque. He got to schmooze with the wedding party and their friends. He got to see the back roads of Iowa. He got to get away for a weekend. Have a good day. Deb