Last one third of the year! Can you believe it? We are 2/3 of the way through 2019. And we are in that downhill slope part of the year. Back to school, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and they all bleed into each other so it feels like it's just one long ride to New Year's Eve.
I've made the decision (already) that next year is going to be a goal free year. I'm just not setting any and I will see how it goes. The first time I mentioned it to Brent I said I'm not going to do any goals next year. (then I paused in thought for a few seconds) Maybe with no goals to aim for I'll take the time to learn how to play the guitar. He laughed. And it was funny. I mean, that's a goal right? If I decide to do it. Which I haven't yet, but I am considering it.
And thinking of writing a book. Like, if I have no blog goals, and no short fiction goals, and no submission goals, and no reading goals then maybe it's time to see if I can make a book happen. Not even a good book, but just a book. Start, middle, end.
Which is totally a goal right?
But no goals next year in the writing a book, learning how to play guitar year.
And I'm not doing my calendar and star system. Because no goals. But I do want to find a little daily minder thing that I can keep notes and a to do list on. Because even without goals there are things that have to get done and writing them down just makes that easier.
So no goals, just writing a book, learning how to play guitar, a cool notebook for daily minders.
And as I've had this discussion with Brent he knows that I'm not feeling overly motivated right now by all of my goals, and goal systems. So last night as I pulled out my calendar to mark yesterday's done things, and to fill out some benchmarks for the week he suggested that I just stop now. If I already know they aren't serving me the way they were a few years ago I can always just stop.
I'm pretty sure I gasped.
You have to be kidding, right? Just because I'm not doing goals next year in the book writing, guitar playing, daily minders year, doesn't mean I can just abandon this year's goals just like that! That would be... well... uncomfortable.
And it really would be. I would feel like I had left the water running and walked out of the house. Or left the curling iron plugged in near the face towel. Or put my shoes on the wrong feet. Just a disaster waiting to happen.
I know, it's weird. But once I've started something, once I've made a commitment to finishing something there has to be a really really strong reason for me to abandon it. Even games I've made up for myself to play.
I've talked about it with the monthly recaps. That even though I've given up on losing weight, I've not given up on tracking it as part of my goals. I know it's not likely to happen. I know I need to just keep focusing on the fitness aspect of it so I don't make myself nuts, but I still will track it until the end of the year, because I said that I would. I'm just prepared to fail at that one.
I don't have to be successful at all of my goals, I just have to work towards them. Or acknowledge that I'm not and why. I'm not planning on losing those ten pounds this year because what I would need to do to make that happen isn't really all that healthy for me. So I won't. But I will count it as a missed goal. Because it is. Good reason. Still a miss.
And honestly, it was a good one to give up and I'm glad I gave it up a few months ago before Mom died. Stress eating has made it even more out of reach, but it would be very easy to go the other direction and just stop eating. My crazy in that area swings both ways and the past week I could feel it teetering on the edge. If I was still aiming for that weight loss goal, the first blush of eating soft comfort foods would have been quickly replaced with not eating anything. Always pay attention to your own crazy and what triggers it. And let people around you help you with that. That's why I always tell everyone when I'm starting a diet. HEY WATCH ME PLEASE!
So here were are. Four more months to go. I've got books to read (finally caught up to my goal there and then started a REALLY long book, whoops!), blogs to write, short fiction to write, a submission to do, some projects to complete, weight to not do a damn thing about...What about you? Are you where you want to be? Have you already started your 2020 Vision? (That joke is going to be used A LOT) Are you ready? Or are you like me and planning a no goal year?
I mean it. No goals.
Really...
Stop laughing.
Tuesday, September 3, 2019
Monday, September 2, 2019
Now and Later...
Today marks one week since my mother died and twelve years since Brent's father died.
Two totally different experiences.
Two completely similar experiences.
For those of you who don't know, Brent's dad was only 58 when he died. A number that seems even younger now than it did then, and it seemed way too young then. He had just had a physical because he was getting ready to deploy to Iraq. He had served a tour in Afghanistan a few years earlier and of course in Vietnam when Brent was born. He was on his way back to a war zone, so we were bracing ourselves for another year of worry about him there. And then he had a massive heart attack while on a long weekend vacation. Nothing that could be done. The back wall of muscle in his heart sheared off. Sudden death. To say we were unprepared would be an understatement.
When Ann called to tell us I couldn't process it at first. I thought I had heard wrong. That it was not Ann my mother-in-law but Ann my sister and it wasn't Brent's dad but mine. We would have been expecting mine, he was much older and had already had a series of heart attacks and had COPD by then. But no, it was Jack. I can remember not wanting to tell Brent and then not wanting to tell Christopher because they were still in that peaceful "BEFORE" zone and I didn't want to yank them into "AFTER." But I did. Because you have to.
From there is was switched into what has to be done mode. Brent went back to New Mexico as soon as he could get a flight, I think it was the next morning, it was the first week of Christopher's school year so he and I stayed behind until the weekend. I was working and going to school at the time and can remember sending off an email to everyone in the office that Jack had died and that I wouldn't be in the office on Friday because of that and would probably be a little quieter than normal while I was there. Trish (the current Spinal Tap drummer of L/N bookkeepers) had spent the morning before everyone else got there downloading to me how horrible her weekend had been and, of course, felt terribly that she had done that while I was sitting there with Jack's death on my mind. I told her that it was fine, I hadn't told her, she didn't know, and his death had not changed that she had a terrible weekend.
When my dad died a few years later that was switched. We had Brent's side of the family coming in to town that weekend and so I went back to New Mexico right away and he and Christopher stayed behind for that and then joined me for the funeral. But things moved into that do what needs done mode very quickly.
Because I'm here, and not living in New Mexico and because we are not holding Mom's memorial service until October there hasn't been as much of that for me this time. My middle siblings are the ones who had to jump right into the what needs done mode. Getting the death certificate, meeting with the funeral home, all of the thousands of details that will need taken care of. I don't have to do that. Because I'm here. I did need to fill out some paperwork giving permission to the funeral home to cremate her, and I did send my sister a check to help pay for that, but that's nothing, not really. Not compared to all that Susan and Jeff will have to do. And deal with.
Mom was a daily presence in their lives and not in mine. So even though we've all lost our mother it's not the same. My other siblings are in Florida right now living with my niece and her family and so I am sure a large focus of their attention is on the hurricane bearing down on them. After that passes I would imagine they will get hit again with grief, but for now I would think the focus would be on the coming storm, not the one that just passed.
They are facing down a hurricane a week after their mother, their grandmother, their great-grandmother, died, they are having to deal with the very real possibility of significant damage to their lives. Or I should say, more significant damage. Mom's death was damage in its own way. But it's what they have to do. It's not like they can go outside and yell at the weather, "I'M GRIEVING! COME BACK LATER!" You deal. You move forward. Life keeps on going.
But for me? It's just waiting until October, being available if my siblings in New Mexico need something. But just waiting mostly. Thinking I'm doing fine until I take a picture and see a stranger looking back at me. I wore makeup for the first time over the weekend, though I still haven't dared mascara yet. I'm not ready for that just yet. But I'm mostly fine. And mostly doing what I would normally do.
We went to Michigan for the season opener this last weekend. We, obviously, had the trip planned a while ago and since there is nothing for me to do but wait, we went. And I wanted to go. I love going to football games. If it weren't quite so crowded it would be perfect, but to get over 100,000 people in The Big House they give each of us a Small Space. Crazy small. Especially when you see the size of most people in the Midwest. I'm not a petite person and I'm Midwest skinny...
But anyway, less than a week from my mother dying and I was on a fun trip to Michigan for a football game.
Which is weird, right? But that's life. Life is weird.
Twelve years.
One week.
It's completely different.
It's very much the same.
Losing a parent is hard. No matter when, or how, or what came before. It's just hard.
And we just keep going.
Two totally different experiences.
Two completely similar experiences.
For those of you who don't know, Brent's dad was only 58 when he died. A number that seems even younger now than it did then, and it seemed way too young then. He had just had a physical because he was getting ready to deploy to Iraq. He had served a tour in Afghanistan a few years earlier and of course in Vietnam when Brent was born. He was on his way back to a war zone, so we were bracing ourselves for another year of worry about him there. And then he had a massive heart attack while on a long weekend vacation. Nothing that could be done. The back wall of muscle in his heart sheared off. Sudden death. To say we were unprepared would be an understatement.
When Ann called to tell us I couldn't process it at first. I thought I had heard wrong. That it was not Ann my mother-in-law but Ann my sister and it wasn't Brent's dad but mine. We would have been expecting mine, he was much older and had already had a series of heart attacks and had COPD by then. But no, it was Jack. I can remember not wanting to tell Brent and then not wanting to tell Christopher because they were still in that peaceful "BEFORE" zone and I didn't want to yank them into "AFTER." But I did. Because you have to.
From there is was switched into what has to be done mode. Brent went back to New Mexico as soon as he could get a flight, I think it was the next morning, it was the first week of Christopher's school year so he and I stayed behind until the weekend. I was working and going to school at the time and can remember sending off an email to everyone in the office that Jack had died and that I wouldn't be in the office on Friday because of that and would probably be a little quieter than normal while I was there. Trish (the current Spinal Tap drummer of L/N bookkeepers) had spent the morning before everyone else got there downloading to me how horrible her weekend had been and, of course, felt terribly that she had done that while I was sitting there with Jack's death on my mind. I told her that it was fine, I hadn't told her, she didn't know, and his death had not changed that she had a terrible weekend.
When my dad died a few years later that was switched. We had Brent's side of the family coming in to town that weekend and so I went back to New Mexico right away and he and Christopher stayed behind for that and then joined me for the funeral. But things moved into that do what needs done mode very quickly.
Because I'm here, and not living in New Mexico and because we are not holding Mom's memorial service until October there hasn't been as much of that for me this time. My middle siblings are the ones who had to jump right into the what needs done mode. Getting the death certificate, meeting with the funeral home, all of the thousands of details that will need taken care of. I don't have to do that. Because I'm here. I did need to fill out some paperwork giving permission to the funeral home to cremate her, and I did send my sister a check to help pay for that, but that's nothing, not really. Not compared to all that Susan and Jeff will have to do. And deal with.
Mom was a daily presence in their lives and not in mine. So even though we've all lost our mother it's not the same. My other siblings are in Florida right now living with my niece and her family and so I am sure a large focus of their attention is on the hurricane bearing down on them. After that passes I would imagine they will get hit again with grief, but for now I would think the focus would be on the coming storm, not the one that just passed.
They are facing down a hurricane a week after their mother, their grandmother, their great-grandmother, died, they are having to deal with the very real possibility of significant damage to their lives. Or I should say, more significant damage. Mom's death was damage in its own way. But it's what they have to do. It's not like they can go outside and yell at the weather, "I'M GRIEVING! COME BACK LATER!" You deal. You move forward. Life keeps on going.
But for me? It's just waiting until October, being available if my siblings in New Mexico need something. But just waiting mostly. Thinking I'm doing fine until I take a picture and see a stranger looking back at me. I wore makeup for the first time over the weekend, though I still haven't dared mascara yet. I'm not ready for that just yet. But I'm mostly fine. And mostly doing what I would normally do.
We went to Michigan for the season opener this last weekend. We, obviously, had the trip planned a while ago and since there is nothing for me to do but wait, we went. And I wanted to go. I love going to football games. If it weren't quite so crowded it would be perfect, but to get over 100,000 people in The Big House they give each of us a Small Space. Crazy small. Especially when you see the size of most people in the Midwest. I'm not a petite person and I'm Midwest skinny...
But anyway, less than a week from my mother dying and I was on a fun trip to Michigan for a football game.
Which is weird, right? But that's life. Life is weird.
Twelve years.
One week.
It's completely different.
It's very much the same.
Losing a parent is hard. No matter when, or how, or what came before. It's just hard.
And we just keep going.
Thursday, August 29, 2019
August Recap!
Well this has certainly been a month. Not the month I was expecting and definitely the worst Birthday Month since I starting celebrating them. But it was a month and so here I am to recap how it went. Goal wise. Not in general. In general you already know. But how did the goals fare?
Fitness/Weight! Still going to touch on it because it was part of the overall year of goals but as of last month it's not a thing I'm expecting to change, really. Still hitting the gym 5-6 days a week. Eating went to shit this month, cake and compliments month turned into cake for emotional support and the compliment being I have never seen anyone blend that particular amount of junk food into a meal before..So end of the month up a half pound from where I started, basically same for the overall year. I'll get back to healthy eating next month. Emotional eating might not be the best idea, but it works so I will take it.
Reading! Thanks to the release of a few graphic novels I read and some days where I really didn't want to do anything but sit quietly I am actually FINALLY ahead for the year. Started four books behind ended up three ahead. Got the next two Discworld books in the series done and now only need one a month for the rest of the year to hit that subgoal. The funny thing for me is that The Last Continent was the one I just finished and when it came available and I opened it to start reading my thought was..."Well pooh...it's a Rincewind one." Those have been my least favorite. I don't know why, but they haven't amused me as much as the others. But I'm going to read them all, dammit, so I settled in and...It was great! I finally found a Rincewind story that amused the heck out of me! Never judge a book by its characters...or something like that...
Writing! I'm ahead for the year. It hasn't been the most light hearted of all of my writing, but it's helped me keep from completely shutting down so therapeutic writing has been good writing for me. Fiction I need to write two pieces a month to hit that goal. Submissions, I was going to work on that this month but...well...next month. I still need one more for the year there. I'll find something.
MasterClass! I decided on the Penn and Teller one thinking it might be a fun diversion for birthday month. And it was a really great class. They teach a couple of tricks, which I'm lousy at, but they also talk about magical theory, and what makes a good trick. And I'm really good at that. How can that be? Good at that but not the trick? Because a lot of what makes for a good magic trick and magic show is the same as what makes for a good short story. Especially the kind I like to write. The look over here while I misdirect you types. I was actually really amused by how much fiction and magic were the same. Really good class. Next month I will probably do Krugman's economics class and save Joyce Carol Oates for October. We will be traveling a bit in October and she has fewer lessons so that's why I'm saving her again.
Monthly Museum/Attraction! We went to the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum this month. It's a big deal here, the Spruce Goose is there, in fact it was built to hold it. But there are a lot of planes and rockets there as well. It was really interesting. A bit far out of town, but if you like that sort of thing I would really recommend it. There is also a giant water park, which we didn't do, but that could make it even more fun.
Long Term! Painted the landing upstairs. In fact I'm finishing it today, just under the gun. I almost skipped it, but leaving that space blank bugged me so gold star it is. Of course, now that it has fresh paint I can see that all of the trim work around it needs fresh paint as well so that's a bigger project for the rest of the year. Also made our dinner reservations for our Disney trip in February. Yes, you have to do that stuff WAY far in advance. It's a bit crazy.
Next month I think the long term is going to be sorting the kitchen and kitchen gadgets but Brent is trying to talk me out of it. He's afraid I am not completely in my right state of mind for such an undertaking. He could be right. We will see how I feel next week. But for now, that's the goal. That and figuring out my last submission piece.
Oh, and for the very astute of you reading you're thinking...wait...August isn't over yet, why is she posting her recap? We're headed back to Michigan tomorrow so I won't be hitting any more goals this month, and I won't be at my computer on Saturday to sum it all up. Today is the "last" day of the month. The next two are Go Blue! days. Thank goodness for distractions.
September on tap:
Continue with the yearly goals
Find a submission
Possible kitchen sort
Fitness/Weight! Still going to touch on it because it was part of the overall year of goals but as of last month it's not a thing I'm expecting to change, really. Still hitting the gym 5-6 days a week. Eating went to shit this month, cake and compliments month turned into cake for emotional support and the compliment being I have never seen anyone blend that particular amount of junk food into a meal before..So end of the month up a half pound from where I started, basically same for the overall year. I'll get back to healthy eating next month. Emotional eating might not be the best idea, but it works so I will take it.
Reading! Thanks to the release of a few graphic novels I read and some days where I really didn't want to do anything but sit quietly I am actually FINALLY ahead for the year. Started four books behind ended up three ahead. Got the next two Discworld books in the series done and now only need one a month for the rest of the year to hit that subgoal. The funny thing for me is that The Last Continent was the one I just finished and when it came available and I opened it to start reading my thought was..."Well pooh...it's a Rincewind one." Those have been my least favorite. I don't know why, but they haven't amused me as much as the others. But I'm going to read them all, dammit, so I settled in and...It was great! I finally found a Rincewind story that amused the heck out of me! Never judge a book by its characters...or something like that...
Writing! I'm ahead for the year. It hasn't been the most light hearted of all of my writing, but it's helped me keep from completely shutting down so therapeutic writing has been good writing for me. Fiction I need to write two pieces a month to hit that goal. Submissions, I was going to work on that this month but...well...next month. I still need one more for the year there. I'll find something.
MasterClass! I decided on the Penn and Teller one thinking it might be a fun diversion for birthday month. And it was a really great class. They teach a couple of tricks, which I'm lousy at, but they also talk about magical theory, and what makes a good trick. And I'm really good at that. How can that be? Good at that but not the trick? Because a lot of what makes for a good magic trick and magic show is the same as what makes for a good short story. Especially the kind I like to write. The look over here while I misdirect you types. I was actually really amused by how much fiction and magic were the same. Really good class. Next month I will probably do Krugman's economics class and save Joyce Carol Oates for October. We will be traveling a bit in October and she has fewer lessons so that's why I'm saving her again.
Monthly Museum/Attraction! We went to the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum this month. It's a big deal here, the Spruce Goose is there, in fact it was built to hold it. But there are a lot of planes and rockets there as well. It was really interesting. A bit far out of town, but if you like that sort of thing I would really recommend it. There is also a giant water park, which we didn't do, but that could make it even more fun.
Long Term! Painted the landing upstairs. In fact I'm finishing it today, just under the gun. I almost skipped it, but leaving that space blank bugged me so gold star it is. Of course, now that it has fresh paint I can see that all of the trim work around it needs fresh paint as well so that's a bigger project for the rest of the year. Also made our dinner reservations for our Disney trip in February. Yes, you have to do that stuff WAY far in advance. It's a bit crazy.
Next month I think the long term is going to be sorting the kitchen and kitchen gadgets but Brent is trying to talk me out of it. He's afraid I am not completely in my right state of mind for such an undertaking. He could be right. We will see how I feel next week. But for now, that's the goal. That and figuring out my last submission piece.
Oh, and for the very astute of you reading you're thinking...wait...August isn't over yet, why is she posting her recap? We're headed back to Michigan tomorrow so I won't be hitting any more goals this month, and I won't be at my computer on Saturday to sum it all up. Today is the "last" day of the month. The next two are Go Blue! days. Thank goodness for distractions.
September on tap:
Continue with the yearly goals
Find a submission
Possible kitchen sort
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
Poetic...
When Dad died on Mom's birthday I said it would take me awhile to figure out the poetic part of it. It took until Mom died to do it, but I think I have.
The start of it came to me this year on her birthday. And this is where I tell you again that I knew it was going to be this year for Mom. I kept couching it by saying, "I could be wrong. Women in her family live really long lives." But that voice in my head kept saying, "It's this year. This is the last year." And on her birthday I thought to myself, "At least this will be the last year she has to be reminded of Dad's death every time someone tells her "happy" birthday." And when I thought of that for some reason I pictured Dad just sitting there, waiting.
Then Mom died.
On Kelsey's birthday.
The day I really didn't want it to happen.
But almost immediately I was filled with an "of course" feeling. The circle just closed.
And I found my poetic reason.
Mom was Dad's life. She just was. She was the center of his universe. You see families sometimes that are clearly about the kids. The kids are the center and everything else revolves around them. That was not my life growing up. We all knew that the primary relationship was theirs and we all came second.
In the Jewish faith life begins at the first breath. A pregnancy is a life under construction. A vessel for the soul is being made. But life? That starts at birth. The first breath is taken and the soul enters the body. Life. Now, my mother was an Evangelical so her definition was a little different but as Evangelicals my parents thought of the Jewish people as God's Chosen People. So...
My father's life really began with Mom's first breath. He lived for two years on his own, but once she was born he was set on the path to her. That's what I've decided. And once they were together and they took that breath together for the first time? His real life started. His whole life. She was his life. And so on her birthday, when you mark the time the soul enters the body and you begin, he left his body behind and waited with her. My imagination says that maybe on your birthday you are a little more permeable, you are primed to let in a soul, the echo of that first time is there. And so Dad left the vessel that had carried him and found a cozy corner in Mom to hang out and wait.
It's why she could see him places, could hear him, could talk to him. He was there, with her, waiting.
And then when it came time for her to leave this world she closed the circle. The oldest of our family passing on the birthday of the youngest. I like to think that she took Dad and they went to see Kelsey, to introduce Dad to her, maybe in a dream. Because you are more open on your birthday. That way Kelsey was with them both for a minute in her life as well. I can see my mother introducing my father to her and then them holding hands and walking away. The circle closed.
I like my poetic version of the why. It's so much better than sometimes life is shitty and shitty things happen at the shittiest of times. So I'm going to hold on to this version. Dad died on Mom's birthday so he could continue to be part of her life until she was ready to move on. Mom died on Kelsey's birthday so she could show her off to Dad. And now the circle is closed and Mom and Dad have moved on to whatever is next.
Together.
Because they were each other's lives.
Poetic.
The start of it came to me this year on her birthday. And this is where I tell you again that I knew it was going to be this year for Mom. I kept couching it by saying, "I could be wrong. Women in her family live really long lives." But that voice in my head kept saying, "It's this year. This is the last year." And on her birthday I thought to myself, "At least this will be the last year she has to be reminded of Dad's death every time someone tells her "happy" birthday." And when I thought of that for some reason I pictured Dad just sitting there, waiting.
Then Mom died.
On Kelsey's birthday.
The day I really didn't want it to happen.
But almost immediately I was filled with an "of course" feeling. The circle just closed.
And I found my poetic reason.
Mom was Dad's life. She just was. She was the center of his universe. You see families sometimes that are clearly about the kids. The kids are the center and everything else revolves around them. That was not my life growing up. We all knew that the primary relationship was theirs and we all came second.
In the Jewish faith life begins at the first breath. A pregnancy is a life under construction. A vessel for the soul is being made. But life? That starts at birth. The first breath is taken and the soul enters the body. Life. Now, my mother was an Evangelical so her definition was a little different but as Evangelicals my parents thought of the Jewish people as God's Chosen People. So...
My father's life really began with Mom's first breath. He lived for two years on his own, but once she was born he was set on the path to her. That's what I've decided. And once they were together and they took that breath together for the first time? His real life started. His whole life. She was his life. And so on her birthday, when you mark the time the soul enters the body and you begin, he left his body behind and waited with her. My imagination says that maybe on your birthday you are a little more permeable, you are primed to let in a soul, the echo of that first time is there. And so Dad left the vessel that had carried him and found a cozy corner in Mom to hang out and wait.
It's why she could see him places, could hear him, could talk to him. He was there, with her, waiting.
And then when it came time for her to leave this world she closed the circle. The oldest of our family passing on the birthday of the youngest. I like to think that she took Dad and they went to see Kelsey, to introduce Dad to her, maybe in a dream. Because you are more open on your birthday. That way Kelsey was with them both for a minute in her life as well. I can see my mother introducing my father to her and then them holding hands and walking away. The circle closed.
I like my poetic version of the why. It's so much better than sometimes life is shitty and shitty things happen at the shittiest of times. So I'm going to hold on to this version. Dad died on Mom's birthday so he could continue to be part of her life until she was ready to move on. Mom died on Kelsey's birthday so she could show her off to Dad. And now the circle is closed and Mom and Dad have moved on to whatever is next.
Together.
Because they were each other's lives.
Poetic.
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
A New Chapter...
I'm an orphan.
I knew it was coming so I've been trying it out for awhile. Orphan.
We don't refer to adults as orphans. We think of children without parents as orphans. But not adults. But eventually, if the normal patterns we think of hold out, we all become orphans. And when our parents die we are reminded that we are still, somewhere, somehow, children. So now I am an orphan.
Last night I informed Brent that I get to win every argument for the foreseeable future because I can just announce, "I'm an orphan" and he has to let me win based on the "don't be mean to orphans" rules. I told him I had run it by Dana last week and she agreed so that was that. He was a little concerned that Dana and I started plotting against him but has basically agreed that for now I win.
I also got the best night's sleep last night that I've gotten in two weeks. I knew the odds were that Mom would go in her sleep and even though she was sleeping most of the hours of the day it seemed to make sense in some part of my head that it would be the overnight sleeping time. So I think my subconscious was keeping me awake to listen for my phone. Last night there was no reason to listen anymore so I slept like a rock.
I know that I should feel like I'd rather lose the arguments and have rough sleep, but I don't.
Things would be different if she had been healthy and happy and loving her life. But she wasn't. She was tired. She was done. She was ready to go. She never completely rebounded from Dad's death. She got better, she dealt with it, she did her best, but she also missed him every single day of her life. I talked about our visit home this spring and how she spent most of her time talking about Dad. And how she said she could see him a lot of the time. Like out of the corner of her eye. Just waiting.
She was ready. More than ready.
And she was still fighting the cancer. She was coming to the end of yet another cycle of chemo. And though it wasn't the devastating chemo treatment that she had the first time that almost killed her, it was still chemo. And it was never going to cure the cancer. Cancers. She ....
....
Sorry about that. My phone just rang and it was my brother. I need to sign some paperwork so Mom can be cremated. And just like that whatever thought was going in that last paragraph is stopped. Because I am signing paperwork to have Mom cremated. Because I'm an orphan.
And I have the easy job of it. I just have to sign this paperwork. Jeff and Susan have to sit at the funeral home and talk to the people about cremating Mom. We all were there when Dad died. It was actually the first time I saw everyone after he died. I flew in and went directly to the funeral home. John and Ann were still living in town so all of us were there. I wrote about being shocked at how bad they all looked and then realizing that I must look just as horrible. Not natural colors for skin. Grief is a bitch.
But this time I'm not flying in right away. We aren't holding the memorial service until October. And John and Ann are living in Florida now. It's all on Jeff and Susan to handle with the direct and leaving the indirect to me and John.
Which honestly has been how it's been for me since I left home at 18. I lived back in New Mexico for a few years after Brent got out of the Navy, but it was just a couple. So the majority of my life I have been an indirect participant in their lives. The Aunt that flies in shows up to dinner and flies back out. The could be an insult could be a compliment just depends on how you take it, "You are just like your Aunt Denise!" The oh we should let her know thought when Dad would get sick, or Mom would get sick or when one of the next generation did something. It's new to John and Ann, they just moved a couple of years ago, but for me it's normal.
But as I learned when Dad died, even if it's normal that I am not there day to day, the grief still comes. It still leaves a hole in you when your parent dies.
So expect more of the grief chronicles. Just now we have moved on to the next part. The actual mourning instead of the pre-mourning. For some reason I was thinking two weeks of pre-mourning would make this part easier. Like I would have had a head start. It didn't. Because even when you expect it, you can't prepare for it. Not really.
I'm an orphan.
It just doesn't seem real.
I knew it was coming so I've been trying it out for awhile. Orphan.
We don't refer to adults as orphans. We think of children without parents as orphans. But not adults. But eventually, if the normal patterns we think of hold out, we all become orphans. And when our parents die we are reminded that we are still, somewhere, somehow, children. So now I am an orphan.
Last night I informed Brent that I get to win every argument for the foreseeable future because I can just announce, "I'm an orphan" and he has to let me win based on the "don't be mean to orphans" rules. I told him I had run it by Dana last week and she agreed so that was that. He was a little concerned that Dana and I started plotting against him but has basically agreed that for now I win.
I also got the best night's sleep last night that I've gotten in two weeks. I knew the odds were that Mom would go in her sleep and even though she was sleeping most of the hours of the day it seemed to make sense in some part of my head that it would be the overnight sleeping time. So I think my subconscious was keeping me awake to listen for my phone. Last night there was no reason to listen anymore so I slept like a rock.
I know that I should feel like I'd rather lose the arguments and have rough sleep, but I don't.
Things would be different if she had been healthy and happy and loving her life. But she wasn't. She was tired. She was done. She was ready to go. She never completely rebounded from Dad's death. She got better, she dealt with it, she did her best, but she also missed him every single day of her life. I talked about our visit home this spring and how she spent most of her time talking about Dad. And how she said she could see him a lot of the time. Like out of the corner of her eye. Just waiting.
She was ready. More than ready.
And she was still fighting the cancer. She was coming to the end of yet another cycle of chemo. And though it wasn't the devastating chemo treatment that she had the first time that almost killed her, it was still chemo. And it was never going to cure the cancer. Cancers. She ....
....
Sorry about that. My phone just rang and it was my brother. I need to sign some paperwork so Mom can be cremated. And just like that whatever thought was going in that last paragraph is stopped. Because I am signing paperwork to have Mom cremated. Because I'm an orphan.
And I have the easy job of it. I just have to sign this paperwork. Jeff and Susan have to sit at the funeral home and talk to the people about cremating Mom. We all were there when Dad died. It was actually the first time I saw everyone after he died. I flew in and went directly to the funeral home. John and Ann were still living in town so all of us were there. I wrote about being shocked at how bad they all looked and then realizing that I must look just as horrible. Not natural colors for skin. Grief is a bitch.
But this time I'm not flying in right away. We aren't holding the memorial service until October. And John and Ann are living in Florida now. It's all on Jeff and Susan to handle with the direct and leaving the indirect to me and John.
Which honestly has been how it's been for me since I left home at 18. I lived back in New Mexico for a few years after Brent got out of the Navy, but it was just a couple. So the majority of my life I have been an indirect participant in their lives. The Aunt that flies in shows up to dinner and flies back out. The could be an insult could be a compliment just depends on how you take it, "You are just like your Aunt Denise!" The oh we should let her know thought when Dad would get sick, or Mom would get sick or when one of the next generation did something. It's new to John and Ann, they just moved a couple of years ago, but for me it's normal.
But as I learned when Dad died, even if it's normal that I am not there day to day, the grief still comes. It still leaves a hole in you when your parent dies.
So expect more of the grief chronicles. Just now we have moved on to the next part. The actual mourning instead of the pre-mourning. For some reason I was thinking two weeks of pre-mourning would make this part easier. Like I would have had a head start. It didn't. Because even when you expect it, you can't prepare for it. Not really.
I'm an orphan.
It just doesn't seem real.
Friday, August 23, 2019
The New Normal...
I told Brent yesterday that I was doing fine. Except for the not sleeping, the only wanting to eat white flour and sugar, which is exacerbated by the lack of sleep, the lack of patience with everyone, which is exacerbated by the lack of sleep and good nutrition, and the fact that I can't hold a thought in my head for longer than a few minutes. But other than that I was fine.
He said I was doing a good job holding it all together. But that holding it all together is not the same as fine.
Fine.
So maybe I'm not fine.
But I've sort of gotten used to it.
Which is really bothering me.
Even though it's totally necessary. I mean, that's the way it is with any loss, you have to keep going, you have to keep moving forward because you have to keep going. So even with half of my head waiting for that message, the rest of me is still cleaning house, reading books, planning Disney vacations, talking to friends, laughing at jokes...
But it feels weird to know that this is, for now, normal. Like it never should be normal.
Brent's mother called me for my birthday and we chatted for a little bit then she asked if there was anything new with us. And I told her that Mom's health was failing fast. But I told her after we had chatted for awhile about books and movies and...it wasn't like it was the first thing we talked about. And I'm not sure I would have said anything if she hadn't asked. Because it's not something you just start a conversation with right?
But it sort of feels like I should.
Like I should tell people, Hey, this is the most important thing in my head right now so...
But I'm still doing everything else. Just like it's not.
Because this is the new normal right now.
Live, move, check in with my sister every few days, try to sleep, mainline sugar, ignore what that's doing to my own health, don't cry, bargain with the Universe on when it will happen. Rinse and repeat.
This is the new normal. And as awful as it is, I'm getting used to it.
.....
Well, I guess I shouldn't be too terribly surprised. After all we've all acclimated to Trump being president so you can really get used to anything. Well maybe not acclimated, maybe more of just getting used to living with that feeling of dread constantly in your head. Okay, so yeah, it's completely the same.
He said I was doing a good job holding it all together. But that holding it all together is not the same as fine.
Fine.
So maybe I'm not fine.
But I've sort of gotten used to it.
Which is really bothering me.
Even though it's totally necessary. I mean, that's the way it is with any loss, you have to keep going, you have to keep moving forward because you have to keep going. So even with half of my head waiting for that message, the rest of me is still cleaning house, reading books, planning Disney vacations, talking to friends, laughing at jokes...
But it feels weird to know that this is, for now, normal. Like it never should be normal.
Brent's mother called me for my birthday and we chatted for a little bit then she asked if there was anything new with us. And I told her that Mom's health was failing fast. But I told her after we had chatted for awhile about books and movies and...it wasn't like it was the first thing we talked about. And I'm not sure I would have said anything if she hadn't asked. Because it's not something you just start a conversation with right?
But it sort of feels like I should.
Like I should tell people, Hey, this is the most important thing in my head right now so...
But I'm still doing everything else. Just like it's not.
Because this is the new normal right now.
Live, move, check in with my sister every few days, try to sleep, mainline sugar, ignore what that's doing to my own health, don't cry, bargain with the Universe on when it will happen. Rinse and repeat.
This is the new normal. And as awful as it is, I'm getting used to it.
.....
Well, I guess I shouldn't be too terribly surprised. After all we've all acclimated to Trump being president so you can really get used to anything. Well maybe not acclimated, maybe more of just getting used to living with that feeling of dread constantly in your head. Okay, so yeah, it's completely the same.
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
Happy (?) Birthday!
I'm FIFTY-ONE!
Okay, so it's not as big of a deal as 50 was. Nobody dreads 51. Nobody really thinks much about 51. Once you hit 50 you just keep going until you freak out about 55 or 60, I guess.
I mean, not me. You all know how I feel about it all. If you somehow just stumbled upon me then here's your refresher...
Fifty was nifty. It really was. I had so many of my fellow new to 50s join in on the fun. The Fifty is Nifty bandwagon, the age is a gift not a curse movement. It was really great. A really solid good year.
Until the past few weeks, they've been a little rough. Or more than a little. Only a little in comparison to what I know is ahead.
But it's been a good year. And I expect the next year to be rough and hard and sad, but then good again. Or good overall. Or even good while the bad is happening. Because that is the truth of it all, life is a mixed bag. And even in the midst of the worst of it all, there is true beauty and goodness and laughter.
And things that take your legs out from under you.
So, a few weeks ago I stumbled across this picture and as I do I did the math on how old everyone was. And I know how old we all are because of the fight.
Yes, the fight. I was wearing my boyfriend's necklace. And my mother was not happy about it. See, it was a crucifix. In our religion we only show the cross as empty. Resurrection, not death see? The Catholics show the crucifix. And my mother was not pleased that I would wear a crucifix. And I was not going to not wear it so we fought about it. The compromise was that it's tucked under my dress so you can't see it.
But anyway...because I know how old I was I know how old everyone else is. And in this picture my mother is...yep...51. This is a big part of why I've never had an issue with aging. I'm 14 here, still pretty young, and my mother is 51. It's not that old. And she looks great. But want to see something amazing?
This is her 11 years later. Wearing no makeup. And she looks even better! And, just for another comparison, C is just about the same age in this picture as Brian was in the first one.
But basically my mother has been my blueprint on aging. She didn't view it as a bad thing. She also always looked much younger than she was. Which maybe is why she was never bothered by it?
Up until the cancer came she was also very healthy. I've talked before about how she kept Dad healthy as well. He was the oldest living male in his family by a long shot.
They were also the happiest couple I've ever seen. They truly enjoyed each other.
Which is why I think she's so ready to go now. Dad's been gone for awhile. The cancer has never completely gone away. The constant low dose chemo, the side effects, the tiredness. And just the loneliness. I think she's just tired.
So we are waiting. And it gets closer everyday. She lets go more and more everyday.
So yes, 51 is a little less joyful than I had hoped.
But I've had a good role model in life for finding the joy in the everyday. For smiling and forging onward. It's going to be a rough start to the year. And right now I look every inch of my 51 years, you can see them all in my eyes. And in the lines around my eyes. And in the hollows under my eyes...
But if things hold true, in another decade I'm going to be better...
Okay, so it's not as big of a deal as 50 was. Nobody dreads 51. Nobody really thinks much about 51. Once you hit 50 you just keep going until you freak out about 55 or 60, I guess.
I mean, not me. You all know how I feel about it all. If you somehow just stumbled upon me then here's your refresher...
Fifty was nifty. It really was. I had so many of my fellow new to 50s join in on the fun. The Fifty is Nifty bandwagon, the age is a gift not a curse movement. It was really great. A really solid good year.
Until the past few weeks, they've been a little rough. Or more than a little. Only a little in comparison to what I know is ahead.
But it's been a good year. And I expect the next year to be rough and hard and sad, but then good again. Or good overall. Or even good while the bad is happening. Because that is the truth of it all, life is a mixed bag. And even in the midst of the worst of it all, there is true beauty and goodness and laughter.
And things that take your legs out from under you.
So, a few weeks ago I stumbled across this picture and as I do I did the math on how old everyone was. And I know how old we all are because of the fight.
But anyway...because I know how old I was I know how old everyone else is. And in this picture my mother is...yep...51. This is a big part of why I've never had an issue with aging. I'm 14 here, still pretty young, and my mother is 51. It's not that old. And she looks great. But want to see something amazing?
But basically my mother has been my blueprint on aging. She didn't view it as a bad thing. She also always looked much younger than she was. Which maybe is why she was never bothered by it?
Up until the cancer came she was also very healthy. I've talked before about how she kept Dad healthy as well. He was the oldest living male in his family by a long shot.
They were also the happiest couple I've ever seen. They truly enjoyed each other.
Which is why I think she's so ready to go now. Dad's been gone for awhile. The cancer has never completely gone away. The constant low dose chemo, the side effects, the tiredness. And just the loneliness. I think she's just tired.
So we are waiting. And it gets closer everyday. She lets go more and more everyday.
But I've had a good role model in life for finding the joy in the everyday. For smiling and forging onward. It's going to be a rough start to the year. And right now I look every inch of my 51 years, you can see them all in my eyes. And in the lines around my eyes. And in the hollows under my eyes...
But if things hold true, in another decade I'm going to be better...
okay, yes, this is actually 50 and 363 days, but it's close enough
So 51...
We're going with #FiftyOnederful even though at times it is most definitely not going to be that.
I'm sticking with the Daily Gratitude posts because I think over the next few months I'm going to really need them.
And we still have 11 days left of Cake and Compliments for Birthday Month so let's keep it going, shall we?
You are all amazing and have been so incredibly supportive of all my wacky ideas and in holding me up while I pre-grieve. If nobody has ever said it, and even if they have, you are rocks. Solid, dependable and incredibly sexy rocks.
Thank you!
I'm sticking with the Daily Gratitude posts because I think over the next few months I'm going to really need them.
And we still have 11 days left of Cake and Compliments for Birthday Month so let's keep it going, shall we?
You are all amazing and have been so incredibly supportive of all my wacky ideas and in holding me up while I pre-grieve. If nobody has ever said it, and even if they have, you are rocks. Solid, dependable and incredibly sexy rocks.
Thank you!
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