Memorial Day I decided to become a homemaker - the rhubarb patch in our backyard was calling to me. The week before I had made jam, but ...now I wanted to make a strawberry rhubarb pie. I have never made one before, but looked in my old red Betty Crocker 3-ring recipe book that I received for a wedding shower gift. The pie recipe pages have all lost their holes and sit in the back of the book. Many of the pages are spattered with dried flour and sugar bits. Yes, I do love to make pie. In the past few years, I have discovered the refrigerated rolled premade piecrusts. And when my cookbook and recipe expert Sandra from DesMoines told me "they were just about as good as a homemade pie crust IF you baste the top with melted butter and then sprinkle it with some sugar" -well, let me tell you-I haven't stirrerd up my own piecrust since receiving her advice. Those pie crusts are a staple in my refrigerator. The lone 1 qt. bag of frozen strawberries was also calling to me to be used. Abby and I had gone strawberry picking last summer, then came home and froze strawberries and made LOTS of great freezer jam. O.K., getting back to the recipe..as I looked for one for this type of pie, I decided I would have to create it using my wise years of baking expertise. Combining other pie recipes, I used
3 cups of chopped rhubarb, the package of thawed strawberries, 1 1/2 c. sugar, 1/4-1/3c flour, mixed together,dumped into the pie crust, 1 T. of butter dotted and the top crust put on, pinched and basted w/ 1+T melted butter and sprinkled w/sugar. Into the oven at 425degrees with my trusty piecrust ring on top. I then went about making other great things for supper. Deviled eggs, Wedged pototoes out on the grill, and good old hamburgers that Ty put his own kitchen spin to. Mixing up a batch of peach smoothies/ non-alcoholic for very pregnant Wendy...and then adding some malibu rum to the remainder. It was a perfect afternoon. We went out to the deck, where Abby and I had put up the canopy with a slight amount of frustration and watched the afternoon go by. The pool is almost clear. I have been working on it.
The rose bushes are in bloom and their fragrance wafts up onto the deck. We talked about Bruce.
Earlier in the day, I had gone to the Memorial Day parade. It was Matt's first volunteeer opportunity with the local police department. Back in December,the same week that we were getting Bruce's diagnosis, I had seen one of the local policemen who had taken Matt and I on a ride-along a few years ago. That ride-along was part of the citizens police acadamy we had attended. He asked me about Matt and I shared that he was bored, wanted to find something to do and we were trying to get him involved with his hometown ambulance garage. But...the ambulance garage really didn't want him hanging around. Since Matt can not do anything other than observe and answer a few questions yes and no, he is not capable of hold down a real job. A few days later a message on my cell from the police officer gave me good news. The River Falls PD was going to offer Matt a 'volunteer reserve office' position. If he wanted to be part of road patrol during parades and be part of some of the local police department educational opportunties he could. I just sobbed into the phone as I heard this message. Here I was, my life was falling apart around me, but there was a silver lining. Now, 6 months later, Matt was sitting at the intersection with an officer. He was given a radio to listen to and now had his own RFPD reserve officer cap! He was speechless. His next gig will be the BIKE RODEO in mid June. I wasn't caring for him yesterday, but since I am the conduit for this job, I wanted to be there. Matt and I had discussed going into the cemetary. He wanted to see where Bruce was buried. So, after the parade, we did just that.
In AFTER GOODBYE, by Ted Menten, he writes about how long one should grieve. He says and I agree that there is not one good answer. "For everything, there is a season. Nature shows us seasons of life and death everywhere we look. People need a season of grief. In this season,the seeds of rebirth are planted. What varies from person to person is the length of this season, the right time for harvest, and the time when rebirth comes. Just as the gestation period varies from creature to creature, the natural process of grieving varies from person to person." Just last week, I had felt great, seemed happier and thought to myself; I am over a hump of grief...but soon it swallowed me up again and I found myself in this labyrinth of somewhat familiar, yet unfamiliar surroundings. Menten, uses this metaphor to describe how grieving folk feel. Looking for something that feels and looks familiar. His phrase, "still wandering around inside my grief" fits how I feel. I know it will take me time to find my way out and through this time in my life.
The timer buzzed, I looked at the pie I had ignored and it was the most beautiful pie I had ever seen. I exclaimed, " I believe this is a blue-ribbon winner!" Later on, when we all bit into it, it was as delicious as it appeared. Yes, timing is everything. The pie had been in the oven just the right amount of time. Matt's little job with the PD is happening at the right time for him and for me. The pink roses that Bruce loved, bloomed just in time for Memorial Day that I could take up to his grave. And our first grandchild will be born in his or her own time. Menten puts it this way, "...a chick knows the exact oment to start pecking at its eggshell. Life is an instinct."
This soon to be grandmother, granny, gam-mah, gam-gam...will wait patiently to meet my first grandchild. SOON...SOON... and tomorrow the MOON will be BLUE!
Fondly, Deb
PS; Friday, I called my baking expert Sandra. She was just putting in her oven the coconut-cream pie she was baking for her husband's birthday. She hadn't made that pie since December 2, Bruce's birthday. That was his favorite pie too. She made it that day and then she and George drove 4 hours to hand-deliver the pie to Bruce at 8:30pm that night! As we talked on Friday, we commented on how we had been thinking about one another all day, an innate instinct that we at times ignore. Our visit on the phone was another perfectly timed event.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Friday, May 25, 2007
The Supporting Cast
Each one of you are very important to me!
Don't ever think you aren't. When all else fails and you don't know what to say - ask with empathy and feeling in your voice; "HOW are YOU?"...these three little words are ones that I have heard often over and over again, and at times, I am not sure how to respond, because truthfully..I don't know how I am...overall...and it changes minute to minute. But what I do know is this!
YOUR CARING about me and my family means more than those three words. That you had the nerve to ask, that you have written me an email, left a message on my phone, sent a card, given me a hug when you saw me out and about! Those moments are priceless to a friend and family member.
I didn't really know how many wonderful friends we had until this all happened. I took you all for granted. I took for granted the kids friends, they weren't my friends. Don't get me wrong, I do care about them, but now I care even more. When Lance's friend - Bill stops what he is doing at work when he sees me come into the store.He gives me a hug in front of all of the customers; That is priceless. When David, another friend of Lance stops by unexpectedly at 9pm, comes in and sits down to visit and eventually asks the big question, "how are you?"...that is priceless. When I recieve an email or a card from Abby's friends - it touches my heart.
More priceless moments;
To get a call from my brothers and sisters on a regular basis because they are checking in with me - my dear dear parents call weekly or more often to check in on their middle child. To be stopped in the hallway by friends at the highschool awards night to be hugged and told I am in their thoughts and prayers leaves me speechless.
Weekly I receive a card from someone that I know. I have friends in all parts of the United States. I had almost forgotten about all of them, during the year, except for Christmas and maybe their birthdays. To get a card 'just because' they are thinking of me, says so much more!
For people in this day and age to take the TIME out of their busy 24 hours to sit down, write their thoughts and send something in the mail - to me...well I am impressed beyond measure!
This week, I attended an all day training in Roseville, MN. This class is required in able for nurses to care for patients in their homes on ventillators. There were women (nurses) I didn't know there. At the break, we were talking with one another and I overheard one say she was from River Falls. So I asked her name, seeing if we might know one another or have a connection. She asked my name. I told her and she immediately got this stunned and eye opening look on her face. She said, "Tokheim...Bruce Tokheim...you wouldn't happen to know him would you?" When I said, yes, he was my husband, she immediately went into five minutes of extending her sympathies and telling me how her church had been praying for our family. And, even at their weekly bible study we are being prayed for! There is a connection I found out later. Her daughter dates one of Ty's best friends! Yet...again I was amazed at the amount of raw and honest empathy this lady whom I don't know extended to me.
I just am awakening to the idea that we have the power to touch one another in such significant ways. Many days, we just go through insignificant motions, thinking about ourselves and what is right in front of us. Little time is spent thinking about our brothers and sisters, our neighbors, our friends or the people we don't know. Yes, we tear up watching Extreme Makeover or get excited when Jordan and Blake are up for the American Idol. But...it takes energy on our part to sit down, write a personal note or email someone we haven't heard from lately. Someone who just might have a brighter day because they heard from you.
My friend, Deb who lives in Kansas City sent me a note last week. I received it on Friday. In the beginning of that week, I had thought about her. Her father-in-law had been ill and in fact was working on dying for the past few months. I had a strong inner feeling that perhaps he had died. I finally got around last Thurday to email her. Sure enough..he had died. Our mail to one another crossed in the moments between Kansas City and River Falls. Her card with the simple phrase, "Deb, you are in my thoughts everyday!" says it all.
I am going to work on listening to that inner person. That little voice inside of me that says..'contact Deb, call Connie, what are Geoff and Marcia doing tonight, send Jason and Lisa a note to congratulate them on their expected arrival!, ask Harley to eat supper with us'etc... ... and here is the punch line to you. Why not do the same? Take time out of your day to ask someone you care about...'how are you?' even though the words seem trite, who cares, you asked the question! Without one another, we would be like Tom Hanks in CASTAWAY...talking to a soccer ball with a painted face on it. WE are so lucky to live in a world that has numerous ways to communicate. People really do care. I care. I thank you all.
One last thing; in Bruce's nightstand was his Grandmother Josephine VanOsdoll's Bible. Don't ask me why it was there, other than..where else would we put this old fragile relic. So amoungst his hankerchiefs sat this bible for simply years. I took it downstairs the other night and opened up this treasure chest. Little pieces of paper were tucked inside of it. Like a little scrapbook, it told the story of this lady I barely knew. She was born in 1882, the first white child born in Badger, IA. Married in 1910. She died in 1972, right after Bruce and I started to date-we went to her funeral. She ran a daycare in Ft Dodge, IA. She bore three children, Bruce's mom was her middle child. Reading through the things she held most dear, things she took the time to cut out, underline, and keep tells much about her character and her life. I liked her style because I am a keeper too. Maybe one day, one of my grandchildren or someone...will sift through some of my stuff and admire what made me me...she took the time to share something with someone else, even though she has been gone for years, she became a teacher and I her student in those moments I spent flipping through the pages.
We never know the impact we will have on another human being. This life lesson has hit me like a boulder. Thank you everyone. I care about you too. And, soon I will have both feet back underneath me again...reciprocating in full measure. Love, Deb
Don't ever think you aren't. When all else fails and you don't know what to say - ask with empathy and feeling in your voice; "HOW are YOU?"...these three little words are ones that I have heard often over and over again, and at times, I am not sure how to respond, because truthfully..I don't know how I am...overall...and it changes minute to minute. But what I do know is this!
YOUR CARING about me and my family means more than those three words. That you had the nerve to ask, that you have written me an email, left a message on my phone, sent a card, given me a hug when you saw me out and about! Those moments are priceless to a friend and family member.
I didn't really know how many wonderful friends we had until this all happened. I took you all for granted. I took for granted the kids friends, they weren't my friends. Don't get me wrong, I do care about them, but now I care even more. When Lance's friend - Bill stops what he is doing at work when he sees me come into the store.He gives me a hug in front of all of the customers; That is priceless. When David, another friend of Lance stops by unexpectedly at 9pm, comes in and sits down to visit and eventually asks the big question, "how are you?"...that is priceless. When I recieve an email or a card from Abby's friends - it touches my heart.
More priceless moments;
To get a call from my brothers and sisters on a regular basis because they are checking in with me - my dear dear parents call weekly or more often to check in on their middle child. To be stopped in the hallway by friends at the highschool awards night to be hugged and told I am in their thoughts and prayers leaves me speechless.
Weekly I receive a card from someone that I know. I have friends in all parts of the United States. I had almost forgotten about all of them, during the year, except for Christmas and maybe their birthdays. To get a card 'just because' they are thinking of me, says so much more!
For people in this day and age to take the TIME out of their busy 24 hours to sit down, write their thoughts and send something in the mail - to me...well I am impressed beyond measure!
This week, I attended an all day training in Roseville, MN. This class is required in able for nurses to care for patients in their homes on ventillators. There were women (nurses) I didn't know there. At the break, we were talking with one another and I overheard one say she was from River Falls. So I asked her name, seeing if we might know one another or have a connection. She asked my name. I told her and she immediately got this stunned and eye opening look on her face. She said, "Tokheim...Bruce Tokheim...you wouldn't happen to know him would you?" When I said, yes, he was my husband, she immediately went into five minutes of extending her sympathies and telling me how her church had been praying for our family. And, even at their weekly bible study we are being prayed for! There is a connection I found out later. Her daughter dates one of Ty's best friends! Yet...again I was amazed at the amount of raw and honest empathy this lady whom I don't know extended to me.
I just am awakening to the idea that we have the power to touch one another in such significant ways. Many days, we just go through insignificant motions, thinking about ourselves and what is right in front of us. Little time is spent thinking about our brothers and sisters, our neighbors, our friends or the people we don't know. Yes, we tear up watching Extreme Makeover or get excited when Jordan and Blake are up for the American Idol. But...it takes energy on our part to sit down, write a personal note or email someone we haven't heard from lately. Someone who just might have a brighter day because they heard from you.
My friend, Deb who lives in Kansas City sent me a note last week. I received it on Friday. In the beginning of that week, I had thought about her. Her father-in-law had been ill and in fact was working on dying for the past few months. I had a strong inner feeling that perhaps he had died. I finally got around last Thurday to email her. Sure enough..he had died. Our mail to one another crossed in the moments between Kansas City and River Falls. Her card with the simple phrase, "Deb, you are in my thoughts everyday!" says it all.
I am going to work on listening to that inner person. That little voice inside of me that says..'contact Deb, call Connie, what are Geoff and Marcia doing tonight, send Jason and Lisa a note to congratulate them on their expected arrival!, ask Harley to eat supper with us'etc... ... and here is the punch line to you. Why not do the same? Take time out of your day to ask someone you care about...'how are you?' even though the words seem trite, who cares, you asked the question! Without one another, we would be like Tom Hanks in CASTAWAY...talking to a soccer ball with a painted face on it. WE are so lucky to live in a world that has numerous ways to communicate. People really do care. I care. I thank you all.
One last thing; in Bruce's nightstand was his Grandmother Josephine VanOsdoll's Bible. Don't ask me why it was there, other than..where else would we put this old fragile relic. So amoungst his hankerchiefs sat this bible for simply years. I took it downstairs the other night and opened up this treasure chest. Little pieces of paper were tucked inside of it. Like a little scrapbook, it told the story of this lady I barely knew. She was born in 1882, the first white child born in Badger, IA. Married in 1910. She died in 1972, right after Bruce and I started to date-we went to her funeral. She ran a daycare in Ft Dodge, IA. She bore three children, Bruce's mom was her middle child. Reading through the things she held most dear, things she took the time to cut out, underline, and keep tells much about her character and her life. I liked her style because I am a keeper too. Maybe one day, one of my grandchildren or someone...will sift through some of my stuff and admire what made me me...she took the time to share something with someone else, even though she has been gone for years, she became a teacher and I her student in those moments I spent flipping through the pages.
We never know the impact we will have on another human being. This life lesson has hit me like a boulder. Thank you everyone. I care about you too. And, soon I will have both feet back underneath me again...reciprocating in full measure. Love, Deb
Friday, May 18, 2007
Memory lapses
I think our brain is this spectacular organ that we take for granted. The ability to remember is such a wonderful creation. How one can be transported back into time, feeling, sensing, hearing a voice, reliving a moment is an awesome ability! Yet, I have been struggling with remembering certain events that I want to really remember. That being, moments ...last moments and minutes and hours that I spent with Bruce. Some of them have become a blur.
I am a furniture rearranger. Ask anyone in my family. It is perhaps a disease I have. DIS - EASE with something that causes me to want to 'spruce things up' change things around and put a little magic back into all of the old things that I find comfort in. By simply rearranging the furniture... and the stuff that I have sitting all around, it seems to me, like I have created a 'new Season' inside the house. I had the carpets cleaned in our lower level last weekend. So...guess what was brewing in my mind all week? Yes; it was time to rearrange the furniture. The family room has gone under many transformations in the past 6 months.
Prior to Christmas and the prior to us knowing Bruce was ill, a major cleaning was done in November. I toyed with putting our second Christmas tree up, but elected to only have one on the main floor. Funny, how these simple half-conscious decisions seem to take on new meaning now. As if it were meant to be. As Bruce's diagnosis was made, and he came home from the hospital December 15, little did I think about the impact our family room would have. It became the STAGE for our last moments together.
THis important and aptly named room in our home has been the place, where we have spent years together as a family. Eating many meals on our TV trays - 1970 bright floral vintage - at one time we had 12 trays. They were a CHristmas gift from Bruce's folks perhaps the first year we were married. In our family room, our children have had many slumber parties there. As they became adults, went away to college and would be home for holidays - their friends would congregate once again here at our home. Many times, Bruce would come up in the morning from showering and tell me; "Did you know that Zach is downstairs?",one of Lance's friends, would be sacked out on the floor or sofas. Our extended family members have slept on the floor/ sofas and blowup beds in this room. In the winter time, it takes on a very special asset. With the woodburning stove stoked - it has a charming warmth. With many fleece blankets supplied, everyone is warm, cozy and together. Bruce's love of MOVIES became evident and when we bought our DVD player, he became a collector of movies. Lance and he went shopping for the right speakers. So, with surround sound that shakes the shingles on our rooftop - movies became real - transporting the viewers as if we were in an IMAX.
As Bruce lived his last weeks, his domain became the family room. He was most comfortable there. We spent many of our nights there. He on the sofa and me curled up on the loveseat. Alert and awake and at his beckon call - or at any slight movement or noise. I held vigil with him, being his steadfast private duty nurse and loving wife. Stoking the woodburning stove each time that I got up. If he awoke, he would flip on the tv. Perhaps is was a distraction for him. What does one think about who has been given the diagnosis of STAGE IV Lung cancer? During the day, it was where he and I would be. Our kids, friends and family members came over and 'hung out' with us. Yes, our evening meal, were served on those tv trays again. Now rusted, paint chipping and worn.
When the hospital bed arrived 5 days before he died, it was the only place we thought to put it. Now, this is where my memory is weak. I remember Ty and I moving the tv into the corner, so that Bruce would have a clear view, a straight on approach to see it. I just don't remember when we did it! I remember getting all hot and sweaty and working so hard to move all of this heavy furniture. But, I don't remember where Bruce was. And, that is what bothers me. He must have been there in the room with us. Didn't I need to atttend to him during this time? It is these little memory lapses that upset me. I have regretted that we didn't tape record the funeral. I have regretted that we didn't have more meaningful conversations, for me to remember. I want to replay them again in my head.
Just like I replay the day we left for the hospital to have each one of our children. For the firstborn - Ty - it was in the middle of a cold December night in DesMoines, IA. As we pulled out of the driveway, I remember clearly thinking; Our lives will be forever changed. The next time I return home, I will be a mother with a little baby to care for. Now, that little baby who is 30 years old is soon to leave his home - to go to the hospital for the birth of his firstborn - and his life will be forever changed.
Yes, the family room has been rearranged. For about the 5th time in as many months. Yes, I can still see Bruce sitting on the sofa and how he looked before he became ill. I can still see him how he looked when he was ill and I can still see him as he breathed his last breath. I can see his hand on the post as he supported himself to stand up those last few days. Many of these moments seem painful and emotional to remember, yet - each one to me is a prescious one. It helps me to understand just what this room has endured. It helps me to appreciate who we were. THat is, a very close family who did it up right, even in the end. All of the moments of all of the days, months and years I spent with Bruce that I can and want to recall, I want to savor. I want to hear his voice again, his laugh, and to feel his touch through memory. Well, it is better than nothing. And, that will have to do - for now.
Today, take time to remember a special moment in your life. Transport yourself there. Enjoy this marvelous gift. We never know what tomorrow is going to bring. May it be all things good for you and yours. Fondly, Deb
I am a furniture rearranger. Ask anyone in my family. It is perhaps a disease I have. DIS - EASE with something that causes me to want to 'spruce things up' change things around and put a little magic back into all of the old things that I find comfort in. By simply rearranging the furniture... and the stuff that I have sitting all around, it seems to me, like I have created a 'new Season' inside the house. I had the carpets cleaned in our lower level last weekend. So...guess what was brewing in my mind all week? Yes; it was time to rearrange the furniture. The family room has gone under many transformations in the past 6 months.
Prior to Christmas and the prior to us knowing Bruce was ill, a major cleaning was done in November. I toyed with putting our second Christmas tree up, but elected to only have one on the main floor. Funny, how these simple half-conscious decisions seem to take on new meaning now. As if it were meant to be. As Bruce's diagnosis was made, and he came home from the hospital December 15, little did I think about the impact our family room would have. It became the STAGE for our last moments together.
THis important and aptly named room in our home has been the place, where we have spent years together as a family. Eating many meals on our TV trays - 1970 bright floral vintage - at one time we had 12 trays. They were a CHristmas gift from Bruce's folks perhaps the first year we were married. In our family room, our children have had many slumber parties there. As they became adults, went away to college and would be home for holidays - their friends would congregate once again here at our home. Many times, Bruce would come up in the morning from showering and tell me; "Did you know that Zach is downstairs?",one of Lance's friends, would be sacked out on the floor or sofas. Our extended family members have slept on the floor/ sofas and blowup beds in this room. In the winter time, it takes on a very special asset. With the woodburning stove stoked - it has a charming warmth. With many fleece blankets supplied, everyone is warm, cozy and together. Bruce's love of MOVIES became evident and when we bought our DVD player, he became a collector of movies. Lance and he went shopping for the right speakers. So, with surround sound that shakes the shingles on our rooftop - movies became real - transporting the viewers as if we were in an IMAX.
As Bruce lived his last weeks, his domain became the family room. He was most comfortable there. We spent many of our nights there. He on the sofa and me curled up on the loveseat. Alert and awake and at his beckon call - or at any slight movement or noise. I held vigil with him, being his steadfast private duty nurse and loving wife. Stoking the woodburning stove each time that I got up. If he awoke, he would flip on the tv. Perhaps is was a distraction for him. What does one think about who has been given the diagnosis of STAGE IV Lung cancer? During the day, it was where he and I would be. Our kids, friends and family members came over and 'hung out' with us. Yes, our evening meal, were served on those tv trays again. Now rusted, paint chipping and worn.
When the hospital bed arrived 5 days before he died, it was the only place we thought to put it. Now, this is where my memory is weak. I remember Ty and I moving the tv into the corner, so that Bruce would have a clear view, a straight on approach to see it. I just don't remember when we did it! I remember getting all hot and sweaty and working so hard to move all of this heavy furniture. But, I don't remember where Bruce was. And, that is what bothers me. He must have been there in the room with us. Didn't I need to atttend to him during this time? It is these little memory lapses that upset me. I have regretted that we didn't tape record the funeral. I have regretted that we didn't have more meaningful conversations, for me to remember. I want to replay them again in my head.
Just like I replay the day we left for the hospital to have each one of our children. For the firstborn - Ty - it was in the middle of a cold December night in DesMoines, IA. As we pulled out of the driveway, I remember clearly thinking; Our lives will be forever changed. The next time I return home, I will be a mother with a little baby to care for. Now, that little baby who is 30 years old is soon to leave his home - to go to the hospital for the birth of his firstborn - and his life will be forever changed.
Yes, the family room has been rearranged. For about the 5th time in as many months. Yes, I can still see Bruce sitting on the sofa and how he looked before he became ill. I can still see him how he looked when he was ill and I can still see him as he breathed his last breath. I can see his hand on the post as he supported himself to stand up those last few days. Many of these moments seem painful and emotional to remember, yet - each one to me is a prescious one. It helps me to understand just what this room has endured. It helps me to appreciate who we were. THat is, a very close family who did it up right, even in the end. All of the moments of all of the days, months and years I spent with Bruce that I can and want to recall, I want to savor. I want to hear his voice again, his laugh, and to feel his touch through memory. Well, it is better than nothing. And, that will have to do - for now.
Today, take time to remember a special moment in your life. Transport yourself there. Enjoy this marvelous gift. We never know what tomorrow is going to bring. May it be all things good for you and yours. Fondly, Deb
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Mom's; Rocks of All Ages
Tommorrow has been in my thoughts. That day we celebrate our Mothers. I have been stewing about how I am going to keep my heart in check when I am with the kids tomorrow. I don't want to be a blubbering baby all day. I don't want to cry. Maybe if I can get this out on paper, I will convince my head that my heart isn't in charge. You see, I have always led with my heart. I wish I weren't that way. I wish I had more head control when it comes to all aspects of my life. Being the "MIDDLE ONE" of 5 siblings...somehow I got socked with the emotional stuff. Most days I don't mind, being labeled the "EMOTIONAL ONE". But, tomorrow is important. I want us to have a good day. Not a sad day, but a happy day.
This GRIEF stuff has given me a few more insights into Life and Death and Being. My appreciation of life has increased exponentially. And, I am learning to view death as not all bad as well. That is contrary to any thought I have ever had about death before. Maybe I will save that for another blog, but for now it will be some food for more thoughts. BEING is where I am today. A GOOD MOM all of these years, is one of my BEINGS. I modeled my mothering after the mothering I received from my own mom. How blessed I and my siblings were to have the mom we had!
Mary Jean, my mom, had 5 children in 10 years. She was a very busy farm wife, housewife and a mom to boot. She had and still has fantastic multitasker skills. My dad was a foreman, o.k. boss! He bossed all of us around. Telling us what we needed to do and when. We all did what he said. Yes, I was a bit scared of him. He had a certain look. When he looked at you that way, you knew you had better not cross him further. My parents rarely argued. They instead teased and played around with one another. We were exposed to a healthy loving relationship. I believe that is why, all five of us siblings have all been married to the same partner forever, almost! We all worked side by side on the farm. We all had certain jobs to do. Mom is a fabulous cook. She could whip up a great meal in no time flat. We all learned to cook with her. She let us be in her kitchen, mixing and stirring as little ones. And later on, allowing us to experiment and soon fixing meals was just part of what we did at home. She has a great sense of humor, a thumb that never stops moving in circles and can spot a dirty window from quite a distance. She has a very layed back attitude. Doesn't get that excited about parenting things, therefore, neither did I. She has sons that adore her and her daughters admire her as a strong yet feminine woman. I am so proud to call her mom and so blessed to have had her all of these years. She gave me life on her own birthday. What a gift! She is a rock in our family!
My daughter-in-law is soon to be a new mommy. We have known Wendy since she was 19 years old. So, for 11 years, we have grown to know one another. We get along very well. She is a hard worker, thoughtful, and a perfectionist in everything she does. She is like a litte pixie! Her childlike fun personality is contagious when you are around her. Bruce called her Wendolyn. This endearment won her heart over. She and Bruce were very close. She is a great soulmate to our oldest son. I know that she will be the perfect mommy. As the few weeks left of her pregnancy pass by, I want to help her in the smallest of ways to make this time extra special for her. I have a few things up my sleeve. She too, is a rock!
As the only parent left to my adult children, I am viewing a new label for myself. That being, 'the ROCK', although my soft interior may sometimes get in the way, I want to believe it to look more like the beautiful GEODE I received from one of Bruce's bowling buddies. Pete is a rock collector. When Bruce died,I boldly asked him if I could purchase one of his rocks. Once a year in the spring, I would listen to Pete's stories at we drove together to the annual bowling banguet. When Bruce died,it seemed like something that would bring me comfort - ie; Bruce's connection to his bowling team via this rock. Pete loved that I asked him for one of his rocks. He brought it to me in a gift bag after the funeral. He handled it like it was a newborn and he proudly unwrapped it, seperated it and describe it to me. It was very solid and round. The color is grayblack and pocky on the outside. It has been perfectly cut into to halves. The inside has been polished and the center is a hollow beautiful core. The crystal core sparkles a soft lavendar. I have it displayed in the house. I love to look at it.
Yes, this is the thought I am going to hold in my heart and head tomorrow and always. As I spend the day with my children, I am going to act like a rock. Hard and solid on the outside! And deep inside, at my very core - beautiful moments will sparkle as I relish being a MOM to three beautiful children. And, if a few of those moments spill out in a sparkling teardrop, so be it! Happy Mothers Day! Love, Deb
This GRIEF stuff has given me a few more insights into Life and Death and Being. My appreciation of life has increased exponentially. And, I am learning to view death as not all bad as well. That is contrary to any thought I have ever had about death before. Maybe I will save that for another blog, but for now it will be some food for more thoughts. BEING is where I am today. A GOOD MOM all of these years, is one of my BEINGS. I modeled my mothering after the mothering I received from my own mom. How blessed I and my siblings were to have the mom we had!
Mary Jean, my mom, had 5 children in 10 years. She was a very busy farm wife, housewife and a mom to boot. She had and still has fantastic multitasker skills. My dad was a foreman, o.k. boss! He bossed all of us around. Telling us what we needed to do and when. We all did what he said. Yes, I was a bit scared of him. He had a certain look. When he looked at you that way, you knew you had better not cross him further. My parents rarely argued. They instead teased and played around with one another. We were exposed to a healthy loving relationship. I believe that is why, all five of us siblings have all been married to the same partner forever, almost! We all worked side by side on the farm. We all had certain jobs to do. Mom is a fabulous cook. She could whip up a great meal in no time flat. We all learned to cook with her. She let us be in her kitchen, mixing and stirring as little ones. And later on, allowing us to experiment and soon fixing meals was just part of what we did at home. She has a great sense of humor, a thumb that never stops moving in circles and can spot a dirty window from quite a distance. She has a very layed back attitude. Doesn't get that excited about parenting things, therefore, neither did I. She has sons that adore her and her daughters admire her as a strong yet feminine woman. I am so proud to call her mom and so blessed to have had her all of these years. She gave me life on her own birthday. What a gift! She is a rock in our family!
My daughter-in-law is soon to be a new mommy. We have known Wendy since she was 19 years old. So, for 11 years, we have grown to know one another. We get along very well. She is a hard worker, thoughtful, and a perfectionist in everything she does. She is like a litte pixie! Her childlike fun personality is contagious when you are around her. Bruce called her Wendolyn. This endearment won her heart over. She and Bruce were very close. She is a great soulmate to our oldest son. I know that she will be the perfect mommy. As the few weeks left of her pregnancy pass by, I want to help her in the smallest of ways to make this time extra special for her. I have a few things up my sleeve. She too, is a rock!
As the only parent left to my adult children, I am viewing a new label for myself. That being, 'the ROCK', although my soft interior may sometimes get in the way, I want to believe it to look more like the beautiful GEODE I received from one of Bruce's bowling buddies. Pete is a rock collector. When Bruce died,I boldly asked him if I could purchase one of his rocks. Once a year in the spring, I would listen to Pete's stories at we drove together to the annual bowling banguet. When Bruce died,it seemed like something that would bring me comfort - ie; Bruce's connection to his bowling team via this rock. Pete loved that I asked him for one of his rocks. He brought it to me in a gift bag after the funeral. He handled it like it was a newborn and he proudly unwrapped it, seperated it and describe it to me. It was very solid and round. The color is grayblack and pocky on the outside. It has been perfectly cut into to halves. The inside has been polished and the center is a hollow beautiful core. The crystal core sparkles a soft lavendar. I have it displayed in the house. I love to look at it.
Yes, this is the thought I am going to hold in my heart and head tomorrow and always. As I spend the day with my children, I am going to act like a rock. Hard and solid on the outside! And deep inside, at my very core - beautiful moments will sparkle as I relish being a MOM to three beautiful children. And, if a few of those moments spill out in a sparkling teardrop, so be it! Happy Mothers Day! Love, Deb
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Blessings
This past weekend I drove to Iowa..a 200 mile one-way roadtrip to my home town, my roots and to my family. I had a niece having a high school graduation party on Saturday. Bruce's sister, Luannn lives in a group home in Iowa. It is right on my way. She has been so lonely for family. She has been trying to grieve her brother's loss in her own way. You see, she is a 50 year old with a 10 year old mind. I had decided I would stop and pick her up and take her with me for an "overnight". When I told her about my idea, she said -"Oh GOODY!"
I had to mentally work myself up for this task. She isn't difficult to care for, she just needs help doing things. I wasn't sure I was up for this on my first trip back, being with family and all. The emotional rollercoaster that I find myself on throws me to and fro. So, I put a 24 hour limit on my time with her. Even if this meant I needed to take her back myself - a 90 mile one way roadtrip. I was planning on staying down in Iowa through Monday evening to help my parents do some outside garden work. This is our annual Mother's Day gift from the siblings. We all purchase the flowers and then my sister, Nancy and I spend the day with my parents...helping them get their beautiful earthhome and park-like yard ready for summer.
The blessings that Luann has brought into our family over the years has been immeasureable. This special child of God has illluminated many pathways in my walk through life and in my children's own lives. They love their Aunt Lu! And she loves them too. She calls weekly, every Wednesday at 4PM to be exact!. She will repeat her calling until someone answers. Many times there will be 6-8 calls on my phone from her. In her monotone phone voice, she says, "This is Aunt Luann, please call back!" When we do finally get to talk, our conversations go like this; "Hi Deb, how are you?" I say, "I'm fine!" -- she says, "THAT's GOOD!"... then she asks, "How's TY?", I say, "He's fine!" -- she says, "THAT'S GOOD!"... etc, etc. for all of the family. She has always like the boys better than she has liked Abby. She doesn't seem to take critique from Abby, like she can take it from the boys. I think it is just a girl thing! We would have her up to our home almost monthly for years. She would ride the Greyhound Bus up from Clear Lake, IA. We have many stories of our adventures in picking her up, missing the bus, chasing the bus. etc. All of these visits were done so that LuAnn could spend time with her mom who lived in the nursing home in River Falls for ten years. Over the years, the kids have taught her to high 5, do thumbs up, and whatever kids cool moves are in. She remembers everyone's birthday. And, on those special days, she calls and sings the entire rendition of Happy Birthday over the phone. She has a contagious laugh. It isn't just like Bruce's..but it sounds so familiar! Her mother did a fabululous job of teaching her to be sociable. She will walk right up to people-strangers, put out her hand and initiate a 'Hello, my name is LuAnn, what's yours?" Watching the endearing interaction between my family and LuAnn helped me get through this difficult weekend without Bruce. Yet... I was ready to take her back on Sunday after church.
Timem was spent with family- my entire family- all five siblings were home, as were many of the neices and nephews to celebrate Alex's graduation. My brother, Craig who lost his wife ten years ago at the age of 45 has three adorable grandchildren. I got to spend some time with them as well as my neices and nephews. All of them made an effort to get up to see Bruce in the last weeks that he was alive. That was so wonderful and so very special me, the kids and Bruce. What a fantastic family I have. What a blessing they all are. Katey, my neice who was 17 years old when her own mom died, was especially sensitive to me this past weekend. It felt good to spend time visiting and hanging out. Yes, I was sad. They were sad too. She said, "Aunt Debbie, we were talking about how much we miss Bruce's laughter." The hole he has left in our extended family is huge.
Spending time with my 82-year old parents is very important to me. I hadn't seen them since the funeral. Staying with them, helping them get their yard all ready for summer felt really good. I thank God for all of the prescious moments I have had with them over the years. I know at times as a child growing up in this farm family, I didn't always act nice, show my appreciation or understand all of their reasoning behind why we all had to work so hard. Dad still can "crack the whip". He had a task he wanted my sister, Nancy and I to do. We had to trim the hedge that grows over the front of their earth home. Much like cutting bangs, but with a hedge clipper held at arm's length above our heads, standing in the back of a pickup - these two 50-something daughters diligently did what their father had asked them to do! Yet, at the end of the day, with juniper clippings in my hair, and dirt in my shoes, aching muscles and tired bones - I felt blessed.
As I got in the car to head home that evening, the sky to the west was full of billowing clouds, dark to light. Large holes through the clouds let the sunshine filter through. Fan-like beams of sunlight fell on the neatly plowed fields of black earth. The fresh new green leaves on the trees, the grass in the pastures and all of this farmland was a perfect scene for me to view out of my sanctuary. Four hours of time to reflect on my life, as it is now, and my life with Bruce. Tears filled my eyes at times as memories filed in and out. The landscape and setting sun amoungst the clouds were perfect for my frame of mind.
The blessings that I feel in my heart are healing the hurts and the sad moments that I continue to have. I believe we are living our own story. A chapter in my book has ended. To me, it was my fairytale. It is in the retelling of these parts of my story that helps to reveal the meanings of my life. I don't know where I am going, what I will be doing or how I will be feeling, but for now - I know that I have been blessed and am continually being blessed. God is with me on my journey. Blessings to you and yours. Deb
I had to mentally work myself up for this task. She isn't difficult to care for, she just needs help doing things. I wasn't sure I was up for this on my first trip back, being with family and all. The emotional rollercoaster that I find myself on throws me to and fro. So, I put a 24 hour limit on my time with her. Even if this meant I needed to take her back myself - a 90 mile one way roadtrip. I was planning on staying down in Iowa through Monday evening to help my parents do some outside garden work. This is our annual Mother's Day gift from the siblings. We all purchase the flowers and then my sister, Nancy and I spend the day with my parents...helping them get their beautiful earthhome and park-like yard ready for summer.
The blessings that Luann has brought into our family over the years has been immeasureable. This special child of God has illluminated many pathways in my walk through life and in my children's own lives. They love their Aunt Lu! And she loves them too. She calls weekly, every Wednesday at 4PM to be exact!. She will repeat her calling until someone answers. Many times there will be 6-8 calls on my phone from her. In her monotone phone voice, she says, "This is Aunt Luann, please call back!" When we do finally get to talk, our conversations go like this; "Hi Deb, how are you?" I say, "I'm fine!" -- she says, "THAT's GOOD!"... then she asks, "How's TY?", I say, "He's fine!" -- she says, "THAT'S GOOD!"... etc, etc. for all of the family. She has always like the boys better than she has liked Abby. She doesn't seem to take critique from Abby, like she can take it from the boys. I think it is just a girl thing! We would have her up to our home almost monthly for years. She would ride the Greyhound Bus up from Clear Lake, IA. We have many stories of our adventures in picking her up, missing the bus, chasing the bus. etc. All of these visits were done so that LuAnn could spend time with her mom who lived in the nursing home in River Falls for ten years. Over the years, the kids have taught her to high 5, do thumbs up, and whatever kids cool moves are in. She remembers everyone's birthday. And, on those special days, she calls and sings the entire rendition of Happy Birthday over the phone. She has a contagious laugh. It isn't just like Bruce's..but it sounds so familiar! Her mother did a fabululous job of teaching her to be sociable. She will walk right up to people-strangers, put out her hand and initiate a 'Hello, my name is LuAnn, what's yours?" Watching the endearing interaction between my family and LuAnn helped me get through this difficult weekend without Bruce. Yet... I was ready to take her back on Sunday after church.
Timem was spent with family- my entire family- all five siblings were home, as were many of the neices and nephews to celebrate Alex's graduation. My brother, Craig who lost his wife ten years ago at the age of 45 has three adorable grandchildren. I got to spend some time with them as well as my neices and nephews. All of them made an effort to get up to see Bruce in the last weeks that he was alive. That was so wonderful and so very special me, the kids and Bruce. What a fantastic family I have. What a blessing they all are. Katey, my neice who was 17 years old when her own mom died, was especially sensitive to me this past weekend. It felt good to spend time visiting and hanging out. Yes, I was sad. They were sad too. She said, "Aunt Debbie, we were talking about how much we miss Bruce's laughter." The hole he has left in our extended family is huge.
Spending time with my 82-year old parents is very important to me. I hadn't seen them since the funeral. Staying with them, helping them get their yard all ready for summer felt really good. I thank God for all of the prescious moments I have had with them over the years. I know at times as a child growing up in this farm family, I didn't always act nice, show my appreciation or understand all of their reasoning behind why we all had to work so hard. Dad still can "crack the whip". He had a task he wanted my sister, Nancy and I to do. We had to trim the hedge that grows over the front of their earth home. Much like cutting bangs, but with a hedge clipper held at arm's length above our heads, standing in the back of a pickup - these two 50-something daughters diligently did what their father had asked them to do! Yet, at the end of the day, with juniper clippings in my hair, and dirt in my shoes, aching muscles and tired bones - I felt blessed.
As I got in the car to head home that evening, the sky to the west was full of billowing clouds, dark to light. Large holes through the clouds let the sunshine filter through. Fan-like beams of sunlight fell on the neatly plowed fields of black earth. The fresh new green leaves on the trees, the grass in the pastures and all of this farmland was a perfect scene for me to view out of my sanctuary. Four hours of time to reflect on my life, as it is now, and my life with Bruce. Tears filled my eyes at times as memories filed in and out. The landscape and setting sun amoungst the clouds were perfect for my frame of mind.
The blessings that I feel in my heart are healing the hurts and the sad moments that I continue to have. I believe we are living our own story. A chapter in my book has ended. To me, it was my fairytale. It is in the retelling of these parts of my story that helps to reveal the meanings of my life. I don't know where I am going, what I will be doing or how I will be feeling, but for now - I know that I have been blessed and am continually being blessed. God is with me on my journey. Blessings to you and yours. Deb
Friday, May 4, 2007
The Cemetary
With Spring here, I am finding it easier to make my way up to the Cemetary. I had called my friend, whose husband also died a few years ago to see if I needed to take some grass seed up. I had been up to his grave a few weeks ago and the ground was still all clumpy and barren. A half used votive candle was the only adornment. It had been bothering me that his grave looked like that. My friend, said "Yes, we need to do that, but don't spend a lot of money. The grass doesn't grow very well up in that area of the cemetary." You see, her husband lies right next to Bruce.
In January, when I was watching him slip down hill and lose his grasp on life, I began to ask those difficult questions. One of them was,"Bruce where do you want to be buried?" He said matter of factly; "In Greenwood - somewhere up by Carlyle". I remember at the time, choking out those words and writing down his answers in the little 'MY WISH LIST' booklet we had gotten from the attorney with our WILLs we had just had redone. But, now I am so glad that I had the strength to ask him those questions.
The first time we went out to the cemetary as a family after the Funeral was on VALENTINE's DAY. As a family we stood around the mound that covered our loving father and husband in the brittle cold night air and lit the votives inside the ICE LUMINARIES that our friends had made, put out there and lit nightly since his funeral. I tried not to cry. We were going out to eat and I didn't want to look like I had been bahling all day by the time we got to the restaurant. The next time we went as a family was EASTER weekend. It was easier, but still hard. Our youngest, my baby - Lance had said he had ridden his bike up there already. I got this feeling of vacant emptiness as he talked. I knew he had been mourning in his own way. It was this way, coming out to the cemetary..passing by his father's grave and thinking as he rides away his feelings.
I have stopped a few times by myself since then. I believe his presence is all around me. It isn't stronger up at the cemetary. Yet, I want his grave to look nice. It's kind of the same way Bruce and I always felt about going out in public..O.K., more me than him! Rarely would I leave the house without makeup, I guess you can call me whatever you want- VAIN is O.K., but for me, I am not completely dressed until I have my makeup on. Now Bruce on the other hand, ALWAYS COMBED his beautiful white hair, brushed his teeth...but it was very common to see him in raggy looking clothes, his sloppy old shoes, out and about in our small community.
So, even though my friend had said.."don't bother spending money to get the grass to grow", I did go out and buy a few bags of fertilizer (actually it was manure - being a farm girl, this is the best kind of fertilizer! I got a bag of topsoil and had some grass seed at home. I loaded up my rake, my hoe and a watering can full of water and by myself, off I went to the cemetary. Will this become a common theme in my life now?
When I arrived, I could see from the car, that the ground had been smoothed over. I even called Ty to see if he and Wendy had done this without telling me, but they reassurred me, no they had not been there. As I got closer, I saw a few sparse grass seeds resting on the top of the dirt. Grass is greening in the cemetary. I guess the greens keepers had put this down already. I thought for a minute, looked at the graves around him and decided; it will need a little more hard work to keep this grass growing. Determined to make grass grow in this area of the cemetary that probably is more clay or sand...it didn't deter me. So, I went back to the trunk, lifted out the bags of manure and dirt and dressed it off. It felt good to be there. I sprinkled the grass seed generously. Knowing that the last hand inside that bag had been Bruce's last spring. AFter watering it down, I knelt..facing the setting sun at the bottom of his grave and had my one of my daily conversations with him. I told him I had had a good day. The warmer weather and blue skies makes me happier. I am trying to get along on my own. I know that he is fine now. But, I still miss him more than words can say.
A few weeks ago, I called the boys down to the office as I was coming into town after work. I asked them if they wanted to go out to the monument place outside of town. I heard Lance asking Ty. He said, "yeh mom, sure, we will go" So, I drove to the office and picked them up. We arrived out there about 10 minutes before closing. I had been out there once before and had looked at the different styles. I did want something unique, but not too different. The owner was very kind and graciously took us back into the bowels, back where stacks of marble rest on little slats of wood. He showed the boys the irregularly rough cut black marble one I had shown interest in on my first visit. We then wandered back into the display area as he took a phone call and began looking at others. The boys were getting into this selection process! As we talked about Bruce and who he was, we decided the irregular shape would not be quite him. IT would be a little 'too different' for his taste. We then found one that all of agreed would be him. Because we have a single plot, ( I plan to be cremated and can be buried on top of him if the kids so choose to do that with me) the width is limited. The decision was made on a narrower, yet little taller version. A computer version with our name and birth/death dates, etc was printed off for us to review. It seemed right to order it. It won't be up by Memorial Day. That is OK.
The ground will be ready though. I am going to at least try to put my farm girl green thumb to task. Taking up water when we don't get rain to keep this area moist will be done in the next few weeks. Tending this important piece of land has given me the reason to visit Bruce. Nothing comes easy. Many times in the past few weeks as I have been outside, I think of all of our Springs together we have had. How we put in new shrubs, tore out old rock and then the pool. It now awaits just me. Bruce didn't like to swim, but he did like having a pool in the backyard. This will be tackled soon but for now, my thoughts are in tending a small piece of land that I really would like to see some grass grow on. Life goes on, life changes and life ends..all of this is evident to me today. TGIF..........fondly, Deb
In January, when I was watching him slip down hill and lose his grasp on life, I began to ask those difficult questions. One of them was,"Bruce where do you want to be buried?" He said matter of factly; "In Greenwood - somewhere up by Carlyle". I remember at the time, choking out those words and writing down his answers in the little 'MY WISH LIST' booklet we had gotten from the attorney with our WILLs we had just had redone. But, now I am so glad that I had the strength to ask him those questions.
The first time we went out to the cemetary as a family after the Funeral was on VALENTINE's DAY. As a family we stood around the mound that covered our loving father and husband in the brittle cold night air and lit the votives inside the ICE LUMINARIES that our friends had made, put out there and lit nightly since his funeral. I tried not to cry. We were going out to eat and I didn't want to look like I had been bahling all day by the time we got to the restaurant. The next time we went as a family was EASTER weekend. It was easier, but still hard. Our youngest, my baby - Lance had said he had ridden his bike up there already. I got this feeling of vacant emptiness as he talked. I knew he had been mourning in his own way. It was this way, coming out to the cemetary..passing by his father's grave and thinking as he rides away his feelings.
I have stopped a few times by myself since then. I believe his presence is all around me. It isn't stronger up at the cemetary. Yet, I want his grave to look nice. It's kind of the same way Bruce and I always felt about going out in public..O.K., more me than him! Rarely would I leave the house without makeup, I guess you can call me whatever you want- VAIN is O.K., but for me, I am not completely dressed until I have my makeup on. Now Bruce on the other hand, ALWAYS COMBED his beautiful white hair, brushed his teeth...but it was very common to see him in raggy looking clothes, his sloppy old shoes, out and about in our small community.
So, even though my friend had said.."don't bother spending money to get the grass to grow", I did go out and buy a few bags of fertilizer (actually it was manure - being a farm girl, this is the best kind of fertilizer! I got a bag of topsoil and had some grass seed at home. I loaded up my rake, my hoe and a watering can full of water and by myself, off I went to the cemetary. Will this become a common theme in my life now?
When I arrived, I could see from the car, that the ground had been smoothed over. I even called Ty to see if he and Wendy had done this without telling me, but they reassurred me, no they had not been there. As I got closer, I saw a few sparse grass seeds resting on the top of the dirt. Grass is greening in the cemetary. I guess the greens keepers had put this down already. I thought for a minute, looked at the graves around him and decided; it will need a little more hard work to keep this grass growing. Determined to make grass grow in this area of the cemetary that probably is more clay or sand...it didn't deter me. So, I went back to the trunk, lifted out the bags of manure and dirt and dressed it off. It felt good to be there. I sprinkled the grass seed generously. Knowing that the last hand inside that bag had been Bruce's last spring. AFter watering it down, I knelt..facing the setting sun at the bottom of his grave and had my one of my daily conversations with him. I told him I had had a good day. The warmer weather and blue skies makes me happier. I am trying to get along on my own. I know that he is fine now. But, I still miss him more than words can say.
A few weeks ago, I called the boys down to the office as I was coming into town after work. I asked them if they wanted to go out to the monument place outside of town. I heard Lance asking Ty. He said, "yeh mom, sure, we will go" So, I drove to the office and picked them up. We arrived out there about 10 minutes before closing. I had been out there once before and had looked at the different styles. I did want something unique, but not too different. The owner was very kind and graciously took us back into the bowels, back where stacks of marble rest on little slats of wood. He showed the boys the irregularly rough cut black marble one I had shown interest in on my first visit. We then wandered back into the display area as he took a phone call and began looking at others. The boys were getting into this selection process! As we talked about Bruce and who he was, we decided the irregular shape would not be quite him. IT would be a little 'too different' for his taste. We then found one that all of agreed would be him. Because we have a single plot, ( I plan to be cremated and can be buried on top of him if the kids so choose to do that with me) the width is limited. The decision was made on a narrower, yet little taller version. A computer version with our name and birth/death dates, etc was printed off for us to review. It seemed right to order it. It won't be up by Memorial Day. That is OK.
The ground will be ready though. I am going to at least try to put my farm girl green thumb to task. Taking up water when we don't get rain to keep this area moist will be done in the next few weeks. Tending this important piece of land has given me the reason to visit Bruce. Nothing comes easy. Many times in the past few weeks as I have been outside, I think of all of our Springs together we have had. How we put in new shrubs, tore out old rock and then the pool. It now awaits just me. Bruce didn't like to swim, but he did like having a pool in the backyard. This will be tackled soon but for now, my thoughts are in tending a small piece of land that I really would like to see some grass grow on. Life goes on, life changes and life ends..all of this is evident to me today. TGIF..........fondly, Deb
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Conversations with.............
Yesterday I drove to Tomah, WI - a two hour car ride to meet up with my sister-in-law for a fun day. It was good for both of us. We are the in-laws to the two brothers we married. We are the two females that tied this family together. After Donna, our mother-in-law became ill and could no longer be the matriarch. We organized and planned many Holidays. These Holidays were centered around Bruce and Mike's sister LuAnn. Being a very special aunt to our children, we made sure our two families were always together for every major holiday. Later on, the two of us planned our TOKHEIM CLAN vacations. This summer outing has been a fun retreat for the cousins as they have grown to become adults. This retreat was also meant to be just for the two families. A time without LuAnn. We are getting together this summer in Cumberland for a 5 day cabin experience. Our adult children will come and go throughout the weekend. It will be very different without Bruce around to liven up the place with his loud voice and presence. This is what Shirley and I spent time visiting about yesterday. That being, the difficulty in moving through these family get togethers. As we sat down to eat, she pulled out a card and a letter. It was a response to my EASTER BLOG. She was responding to me not feeling part of the family. She wanted me to know that it wouldn't be allowed! I know what she meant. I would be telling her exactly the same thing if she were in my shoes. I know I am part of the family, but the reality remains that I am no longer considered married. That marriage was to Bruce. That is the part that bothers me.
The car has become my sanctuary. Yesterday as I drove out of River Falls, the fog was resting gently on the tree tops. Everything had an ethereal appearance. I couldn't help it, I said outloud to myself, "This looks like Heaven to me!, Does it look like heaven Bruce? " The music in the 6 CD slots in the car is all Christian or instrumental of some sort. I can't get myself to listen to the radio, or to news or to happy music....not in my car. It is the time, when I have private conversations with myself, with God and with Bruce. The memories of moments with Bruce are very strong in the car. I think it is because we had many of our conversations there. Held captive for 1,2 or 4 hours in a car - we utilized this time by talking.
Like many families, over the years, we developed bad habits. Eating not at the table, but in front of the television for dinner. This, decreased the amount of conversations we would have. Don't get me wrong, we would sit at the table when all of the kids were over, but I am talking about Bruce and I...intimate conversation time. Just the two of us...most of those conversations took place in the car. Sometimes I would feel the need to talk, and we hadn't evidently gone anywhere for awhile, so I would call him at work and say, "let's go out to eat" . There in public, sitting across from one another, face to face, we would converse.
Unlike my parents, whom I can hear talking early in the morning when they first wake up, or before they go to bed. For some reason, Bruce and I didn't talk lying down. Unless, we were watching television and commenting on something that we were watching. Yes, the telelvision in the bedroom isn't always a good idea. Oh...we teased one another and made light conversation, but I am talking about STUFF...that couples need to talk about. Those conversations happened sitting upright, and most of the time in the car!
So...with all of the pounding away at these keys on this keyboard, the light is shed on my dilemma. The car reminds me of Bruce. That is why I feel sad, let myself be sad and shed more tears there than anywhere else. His voice seems to come into my ears most easily in the car. I am a lover of nature. The moon, the sun, the stars, the clouds - everything gets me excited. The big horizons, the landscapes of Wisconsin -whatever I see out the windshield excites me! I couldn't help myself. Many times, I would say - "Bruce...look at that, isn't it beautiful?" Now, with each new beautiful thing I see in front of me, it reminds me of him. That is cool.
Last night as I was going upstairs to bed, the moon began to brilliantly shine though the windows. As I was pulling my shade down in the bedroom, I noticed the FULL MOON. I had just listened to the news, this gorgeous month of MAY..we will be blessed with two Full moons. So, like me, keep your eyes peeled at the end of the month for the BLUE MOON. As I stood at my window having a conversation with myself, I couldn't help it, I had to go outside on the deck. I walked through the dark house, opened up the sliding door and stood out on the deck in my pajamas just gazing at the moon. As I did so, the words on a placque I had read earlier in the day in a little country store in Tomah drifted into my voice. "I will LOVE YOU TO THE MOON and BACK!" I said over and over. Yes, Bruce...that is how I feel. No matter where I am in my life, that is how I am going to be feeling. Especially when I see a full moon.
Maybe the baby will be born during the blue moon. If so, I can hear Bruce say..."THAT's SO COOL"! Enjoy today and especially tonight and have a face to face conversation with the one you love. Fondly, Deb
The car has become my sanctuary. Yesterday as I drove out of River Falls, the fog was resting gently on the tree tops. Everything had an ethereal appearance. I couldn't help it, I said outloud to myself, "This looks like Heaven to me!, Does it look like heaven Bruce? " The music in the 6 CD slots in the car is all Christian or instrumental of some sort. I can't get myself to listen to the radio, or to news or to happy music....not in my car. It is the time, when I have private conversations with myself, with God and with Bruce. The memories of moments with Bruce are very strong in the car. I think it is because we had many of our conversations there. Held captive for 1,2 or 4 hours in a car - we utilized this time by talking.
Like many families, over the years, we developed bad habits. Eating not at the table, but in front of the television for dinner. This, decreased the amount of conversations we would have. Don't get me wrong, we would sit at the table when all of the kids were over, but I am talking about Bruce and I...intimate conversation time. Just the two of us...most of those conversations took place in the car. Sometimes I would feel the need to talk, and we hadn't evidently gone anywhere for awhile, so I would call him at work and say, "let's go out to eat" . There in public, sitting across from one another, face to face, we would converse.
Unlike my parents, whom I can hear talking early in the morning when they first wake up, or before they go to bed. For some reason, Bruce and I didn't talk lying down. Unless, we were watching television and commenting on something that we were watching. Yes, the telelvision in the bedroom isn't always a good idea. Oh...we teased one another and made light conversation, but I am talking about STUFF...that couples need to talk about. Those conversations happened sitting upright, and most of the time in the car!
So...with all of the pounding away at these keys on this keyboard, the light is shed on my dilemma. The car reminds me of Bruce. That is why I feel sad, let myself be sad and shed more tears there than anywhere else. His voice seems to come into my ears most easily in the car. I am a lover of nature. The moon, the sun, the stars, the clouds - everything gets me excited. The big horizons, the landscapes of Wisconsin -whatever I see out the windshield excites me! I couldn't help myself. Many times, I would say - "Bruce...look at that, isn't it beautiful?" Now, with each new beautiful thing I see in front of me, it reminds me of him. That is cool.
Last night as I was going upstairs to bed, the moon began to brilliantly shine though the windows. As I was pulling my shade down in the bedroom, I noticed the FULL MOON. I had just listened to the news, this gorgeous month of MAY..we will be blessed with two Full moons. So, like me, keep your eyes peeled at the end of the month for the BLUE MOON. As I stood at my window having a conversation with myself, I couldn't help it, I had to go outside on the deck. I walked through the dark house, opened up the sliding door and stood out on the deck in my pajamas just gazing at the moon. As I did so, the words on a placque I had read earlier in the day in a little country store in Tomah drifted into my voice. "I will LOVE YOU TO THE MOON and BACK!" I said over and over. Yes, Bruce...that is how I feel. No matter where I am in my life, that is how I am going to be feeling. Especially when I see a full moon.
Maybe the baby will be born during the blue moon. If so, I can hear Bruce say..."THAT's SO COOL"! Enjoy today and especially tonight and have a face to face conversation with the one you love. Fondly, Deb
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