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.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
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
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
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
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
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
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
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
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
Friday, August 3, 2007
Six Months, Self Pity, Sheer Grit, etc
Today is our SIX MONTH Anniversary! Yes, Anniversaries are usually very exciting times aren't they? Can it really be that he died six months ago already? I must admit the time has flown by, at least some moments of it has. Little Avery, our granddaughter is 2 MONTHS old tomorrow! Anniversaries of death and life. Such absurdities! My attitude is rather in an accepting way this morning. Perhaps it is because I have so many other more pressing life issues to deal with this weekend. But..in this moment I want to share my feelings about Anniversaries.
In a book I received from another widow, which is aptly titled, "WIDOW to WIDOW", the author talks about the Six-month Syndrome - a setback that is suffered after she thought she was just accepting the whole idea and moving onward. Well, I guess I am normal. Even though this syndrome may occur at any time the author states, six months is most common. AKA; - sudden realizations dot my days that account for the highs and lows. When a widow begins to reconstruct her identity, she is given a sudden jolt...brought on by a myriad of things such as memories and every day life stressers. The good news is I am a fairly normal widow and I now know what one of my problems is and I am dealing with it.
In the past few weeks, I have had well meaning children, good friends and co-workers suggest to me that just maybe I need to seek counseling and or medication. I wish at times I weren't a tough old bird and think I can handle everything on my own. But, what you see is what you get. I have too much of my father in me! I do feel strong and feel that I am doing what I need to do right now. My blurbing out on this blog is like a weekly dose of an antidepressant. If I weren't so busy in my day to day life, I perhaps would be expressing more of my sentiments on this screen on a more regular basis, and maybe that would see me further down the road of life. I am thinking about/getting ready to give our marriage counselor a call and set up an appointment in the next month to go visit with this great man!~ In the early 90's, Bruce and I sought his help in sorting out our problems. After almost a year of weekly sessions, we found ourselves in a stronger more realistic and honest relationship. We did find out things we didn't know about one another. We both heard things we didn't want to hear, but in the end... we survived as a couple who realized what initially brought us together over 35 years ago were the ingredients of a loving and enduring relationship. We fought the tough fight and survived, loving one another more each day!
Some good friends of our will be celebrating their 50th Anniversary this month. In them, I see me and Bruce. What our lives were like/would have been like. So, then the self-pity begins as I try to make it through this month. You see, our Anniversary is/was this month. On August 25th, 1973...we began our marriage. It has been weighing heavy on my heart. Will anyone else remember our anniversary? Will the kids? Do they know how much it means to me? problably not..and what would we do now to celebrate? We are celebrating Avery's Baptism on the 26th. That weekend will be filled with company and celebrations. Life and faith celebrations.
RINGS
His ring - Bruce had small hands and fingers! His ring size is my ring size, size 6.5! He lost his original wedding band somewhere on the bike path from our married student housing to class one day within the first 6 months of our marriage. I purchased him a $300 gold band 10 years later when I could afford it on my own. Then, for his 50th Birthday, I had our local jeweler make him a gold band in the same style as my wedding rings. I gave it to him on his 50th Birthday in LasVegas with a card listing the 50 things I loved most about him.
My rings -I have my original wedding band set that is on my finger now. And, then I have a three diamond band that we purchased while on a cruise in the Caribbean the year of our 30th Anniversary. At the time, it seemed extravagant. This style of ring is touted to symbolize the past, the present and the future. (I also rationalized, it symbolized our three children!) Since the funeral, I have been trading off every other month, wearing these two rings. I wasn't ready to be a widow, I am not ready to not be married. I am not ready to take these rings off. I don't know when I will. But, in this same book mentioned above, there is a chapter on RINGS - to wear or not to wear. I barely could read the words, let alone let them soak into my being. Taking the rings off means I have decided to MOVE ON. One idea I could see myself doing sometime is to create a new piece of jewelry out of his wedding band and my original wedding band. Maybe a pendent type thingy. We will see!
I have realized after some deep thought and reading that I must remind myself that a combination of tools will help me through some of the rough spots. Perhaps I have been too soft, giving into tears and sadness and down times. Instead,when I feel myself falling down, I need to take a deep breath from this point forward and grit my teeth and say; DEB, HANG ON....you are in for a ride...and you will make it through this patch of rough weather too! I have pulled out and began to reread Victor Frankl's book, THE MEANING OF LIFE. His depiction of his concentration camp experience is vivid. He shares how some survive and others don't. Sheer will and grit determined many prisoners fate. I want to have that same sheer grit. Ginsburg, the author of the above mentioned book puts it this way, "The wisest prescription lies somewhere in the middle:composed of one part self-pity, one part acceptance and one part sheer grit." The recipe isn't the same for everyone. I know that if I keep tweaking it, working on it...my life will one day be heading always in a forward direction. Until then, August is here, memories are real and important. I plan to take photos of all of my wedding album photographs with my digital camera so that I can do more things with them. Cherishing it all....in this moment... Deb
In a book I received from another widow, which is aptly titled, "WIDOW to WIDOW", the author talks about the Six-month Syndrome - a setback that is suffered after she thought she was just accepting the whole idea and moving onward. Well, I guess I am normal. Even though this syndrome may occur at any time the author states, six months is most common. AKA; - sudden realizations dot my days that account for the highs and lows. When a widow begins to reconstruct her identity, she is given a sudden jolt...brought on by a myriad of things such as memories and every day life stressers. The good news is I am a fairly normal widow and I now know what one of my problems is and I am dealing with it.
In the past few weeks, I have had well meaning children, good friends and co-workers suggest to me that just maybe I need to seek counseling and or medication. I wish at times I weren't a tough old bird and think I can handle everything on my own. But, what you see is what you get. I have too much of my father in me! I do feel strong and feel that I am doing what I need to do right now. My blurbing out on this blog is like a weekly dose of an antidepressant. If I weren't so busy in my day to day life, I perhaps would be expressing more of my sentiments on this screen on a more regular basis, and maybe that would see me further down the road of life. I am thinking about/getting ready to give our marriage counselor a call and set up an appointment in the next month to go visit with this great man!~ In the early 90's, Bruce and I sought his help in sorting out our problems. After almost a year of weekly sessions, we found ourselves in a stronger more realistic and honest relationship. We did find out things we didn't know about one another. We both heard things we didn't want to hear, but in the end... we survived as a couple who realized what initially brought us together over 35 years ago were the ingredients of a loving and enduring relationship. We fought the tough fight and survived, loving one another more each day!
Some good friends of our will be celebrating their 50th Anniversary this month. In them, I see me and Bruce. What our lives were like/would have been like. So, then the self-pity begins as I try to make it through this month. You see, our Anniversary is/was this month. On August 25th, 1973...we began our marriage. It has been weighing heavy on my heart. Will anyone else remember our anniversary? Will the kids? Do they know how much it means to me? problably not..and what would we do now to celebrate? We are celebrating Avery's Baptism on the 26th. That weekend will be filled with company and celebrations. Life and faith celebrations.
RINGS
His ring - Bruce had small hands and fingers! His ring size is my ring size, size 6.5! He lost his original wedding band somewhere on the bike path from our married student housing to class one day within the first 6 months of our marriage. I purchased him a $300 gold band 10 years later when I could afford it on my own. Then, for his 50th Birthday, I had our local jeweler make him a gold band in the same style as my wedding rings. I gave it to him on his 50th Birthday in LasVegas with a card listing the 50 things I loved most about him.
My rings -I have my original wedding band set that is on my finger now. And, then I have a three diamond band that we purchased while on a cruise in the Caribbean the year of our 30th Anniversary. At the time, it seemed extravagant. This style of ring is touted to symbolize the past, the present and the future. (I also rationalized, it symbolized our three children!) Since the funeral, I have been trading off every other month, wearing these two rings. I wasn't ready to be a widow, I am not ready to not be married. I am not ready to take these rings off. I don't know when I will. But, in this same book mentioned above, there is a chapter on RINGS - to wear or not to wear. I barely could read the words, let alone let them soak into my being. Taking the rings off means I have decided to MOVE ON. One idea I could see myself doing sometime is to create a new piece of jewelry out of his wedding band and my original wedding band. Maybe a pendent type thingy. We will see!
I have realized after some deep thought and reading that I must remind myself that a combination of tools will help me through some of the rough spots. Perhaps I have been too soft, giving into tears and sadness and down times. Instead,when I feel myself falling down, I need to take a deep breath from this point forward and grit my teeth and say; DEB, HANG ON....you are in for a ride...and you will make it through this patch of rough weather too! I have pulled out and began to reread Victor Frankl's book, THE MEANING OF LIFE. His depiction of his concentration camp experience is vivid. He shares how some survive and others don't. Sheer will and grit determined many prisoners fate. I want to have that same sheer grit. Ginsburg, the author of the above mentioned book puts it this way, "The wisest prescription lies somewhere in the middle:composed of one part self-pity, one part acceptance and one part sheer grit." The recipe isn't the same for everyone. I know that if I keep tweaking it, working on it...my life will one day be heading always in a forward direction. Until then, August is here, memories are real and important. I plan to take photos of all of my wedding album photographs with my digital camera so that I can do more things with them. Cherishing it all....in this moment... Deb
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