A Legacy of Love, His Fate

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Will Not Die an Unlived Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sincerely,

Deb, aka Grandma

Las Vegas Yesterday - Here today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Precious Daughters, sons and Dancing

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

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

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

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

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

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

The only way to dance

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

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

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

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

Eight Months - still counting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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