A Face ....

.... even a "cat person" can love:

This is Sarge.
He's my brother's dog and he is THE coolest dog ever.

He and my brother love each other ..... a lot.

Sarge always seems to understand everything my brother says to him.  Seriously.
He understands and follows directions better than most children!  I think they need to Google "cloning a cool dog" and see how they accomplish that (since they don't have the option of using him to make puppies anymore).

Anyway .... things are going pretty well up here in the "higher 1".  I'm guessing that's how everyone here describes Alaska (even though I've never heard anyone say it .... and I think I just made it up), because they always say "the lower 48" for anywhere else.
Get it?  Higher 1?
Alright, so that was pathetic.
Whatever.

The surgery went well yesterday, according to the dr.  We got to the hospital at 7:30.  They called him (and me) back around 8:00 to start getting him prepped.  The surgery was scheduled to begin at 9:30, but they didn't take him back until 10:00.
Once they had possession of him I went to the cafeteria to get something to eat and then settled in with lots of wholesome reading material (this week's People magazine .... which surprised me with a small piece on Matt's book in the "books" section!!) for what I was told would be an hour long, to an hour and a half, surgery.
Noon came .... and went.
Two o'clock came .... and went.
And then I couldn't read.
I couldn't concentrate.
And, however hard I tried .... I couldn't stop my mind from .... "going there".
I wondered what the hell was going on back there, what might have "gone wrong" ..... and what would I do if something had.
I knew that nothing had "gone wrong".
But then, I knew that 3 1/2 years ago, too ..... while waiting for another surgery to end ..... hours after it was supposed to.
And ..... I was wrong then.

Three o'clock came .... and went.
And then finally .... at 3:15 or so,  someone came out and called my name .... kind of.  I was never so happy to have my name mispronounced!
I followed the person through a maze of hallways (knowing for certain that, left on my own, I'd never find my way out of that hospital!).
He pointed to a curtained bay and I went in and found my brother sleeping peacefully.  His nurse came in and said hi and told me that he was doing well.
He heard us talking and opened his eyes and said hi .... and seemed very, very alert for someone who had just come out of surgery.
Interestingly enough ..... he had NOT just come out.  He had been out of surgery for over 3 hours.
Yes.  Three.  Tres.  Trois.  Tre.  Drei.  Tribus (yes, that's Latin).
Use whatever language you'd like .... it's still THREE stinkin' hours that I sat in the waiting room, not knowing the surgery was over.  One FULL hour of trying not to imagine the horribleness of "what if".

His nurse was horrified that no one had updated me.  At all.
She had called the desk and told them when he came out of surgery.
But I guess they didn't think it was necessary to pass that info on.
Yes, she was horrified.
My brother .... was horrified x 100.
Or maybe even x 1 million.
Because he knew.
Instantly.
He knew that I would have "gone there" .... without me having to say a word.

Oh well.
Crap happens.
But I was so relieved that he was alive and healthy and had a good-sized incision in his back that I just let it go.  After being a wee bit angry for a few minutes.  :)

After another two hours or so we were cut free from the hospital and came home.
He's doing remarkably well .... as long as we keep him on top of the pain meds.  Which is sometimes easier said than done.

And in spite of the surgery, the pain and the second hand smoke .... we're having a great time.
It's been wonderful to just sit (he's living every man's dream .... the doctor said he had to spend most of his awake time in a recliner for the next two weeks.  Now, if only he could drink alcohol we'd have a cooler next to the recliner!) and talk.
And laugh.
We do a lot of laughing.  We always have (well .... as adults anyway).  When he, my sister and I are together ..... someone always comes close to wetting their pants from laughing.  I won't say who ..... but I am the oldest.  If my mom is with us .... it's totally her.  :)

So we're talking, and laughing.
And remembering, and laughing.
And comparing, and laughing.
And dreaming .... and laughing.
I think that all of this laughter is a little hard on his back, but I don't think he minds too much.  And he can't say he didn't know it would happen.

As for my care-taking .... it hasn't been too bad.
He tried to tell me .... right away .... that this is how he would let me know he needed something:

Yeah .... that didn't go over.
At all.

I did manage to feed the dog.  Don't roll your eyes .... he's huge and the dish is very heavy!
We had take out Chinese for dinner last night .... I took it out of the sacks and put it all on the table.
Oh .... and I drove to get it!

Tonight I made dinner .... I re-heated the left over Chinese.
Don't judge me.

I did offer to do laundry, but he said he had none.
I've offered a couple of other things, but he always says no.
Last night, when I started cleaning up the Chinese and putting things away he said, "I feel bad that you're doing that."
I turned and looked at him like he had three heads.
What?  Why??
He said he just did.
I reminded him that I was here to help him out.  But I guess he doesn't really want help.  He just wants to laugh.
I can do that.

Oh .... he did tell me that if I really wanted to help I could go wash his car.
Yeah.
Ummmmm ..... I'll get right on it.

Right after I make some homemade bread, sheer the sheep, spin some wool into thread ..... and go work in the garden.
Right.
On.
It.

I may have to go buy some Depends.

Happy Thursday/Friday, Peeps.
:)

A Double Edged Sword ....

.... is something I should be used to by now.

I'm not.

I am in Alaska this week.

This is my second visit.

The first time was back in 2007 .... with Jim and the Sons.

It was to be our last family vacation.

Ever.

Jim died 6 months later.

My brother lives here and I came to be his "nurse" after he has back surgery today.

(I'm not sure why anyone would consider me to be a good care-giver .... I left home with one of the Sons sounding like he's hacking up a lung).

Anyway, being here .... walking through this home, taking my suitcase into the same bedroom we used ..... is a double-edged sword.

It's piercing my heart with the missing of Jim and yet making me grateful to have one-on-one time with my brother, which we've probably never had before.

The above picture is one of my favorites of Jim ..... as well as one of the last.

He loved Alaska.

He loved my brother and his family.

He loved how beautiful it is here (in the summer .... not so much right now) and was enjoying the view from a mountain that we were in the midst of climbing that day .... our last day here.

I wonder ..... do the "firsts" ever stop coming?

Do reminders of the "lasts" ever stop coming?

Because after 3 1/2  years ..... I'd like them to stop.

But I don't think they will.

I still have marriages ahead of me.

Daughters with no father to walk them down the aisle.

Sons with no dad to give them sage advice before their wedding day.

I, hopefully, still have grandchildren to be born.

Beautiful children who will never know the wonderful man who was their grandfather.

I still have graduations to go through ..... and one Marine boot camp graduation.

That one would have made Jim cry like a baby.

I know that I'll be crying for both of us.

All of these "firsts" are double-edged swords .... they will bring heart ache .... and joy.

I am happy again.

But it's a happiness that is many times tinged with sadness around the edges.

I'm happy to be here with my brother.

I'm grateful that I could make the time to come and help him out.

But I'm sad that these walls and this place are also reminders of one of our "lasts".

Happy.

Sad.

Firsts.

Lasts.

Life is full of double edged swords.

Waves and Spaghetti....

.... that pretty much sums up my day.

I'm tired.

I cooked.

I know!

Well, some people might not call it cooking, but I TOTALLY opened up that jar of sauce AND that bag of salad by myself. I also did a fairly nice job of baking the frozen bread and boiling the water. That's cooking in my book .... at least here in my "after".

I went to a luncheon today at a place in town where I'd been several times before .... always with Jim.

That was a bit of a wave.

Then one of the speakers mentioned Jim's company and another wave slammed into me. I had to bite my lip for quite a while to not cry. I came very close .... teared up, but didn't let them spill over. My lip is a bit sore but at least I didn't look like an emotional wreck in front of a lot of strangers.

So there you go .... waves and spaghetti.

Could be worse.

Could have been waves OF spaghetti.

See you tomorrow, Peeps ..... I recently read a very good book on grief and I'm going to write about it some time this weekend. It's called "Solace". Let me know if you've heard of it.

I Was Having a Perfectly Good Day ....

.... until I wasn't.

I went to work today, came home to have lunch and spend some time with Son #1 before he headed back to school, went back to work and just got home.

It was a good day .... until about 1/2 way through the drive home.

Suddenly I had a flashback. I was back in the ER with Jim, watching them run around as fast as they could, to stick him with needles, to try to get a blood pressure, giving him a very quick MRI and then telling me I'd better call my family. All within 10 minutes. I was watching myself trying to comprehend that this was not just a case of acid reflux and that he wasn't going home. In fact, he was going downtown on a helicopter and in all likelihood I'd never see him alive again. It was too difficult to understand .... I didn't know what to do .... it all happened so fast.

All in less than 10 minutes.

(As an aside, God granted us 7 more hours with him, thankfully.)

I was having a good day.

And now .... I am not.

I've been having so many good days that it's been a tiny bit scary. I didn't see the flashback coming ..... you never do. I wonder if this is what it's like for soldiers who've been to war? One minute you're happy as a clam, driving your car, looking forward to heading home to see your sons and then WHAM!! You're standing back in time, in a horrible, horrible place. And you can't leave it. You just have to get through it.

And so I write.

And cry.

And write some more.

I want this damn pain to go away. I want my heart to stop hurting from missing him every moment of every day.

I want ..... too much.

I want .... what I can never have.

So I write.

And I scream on the inside, "Damn it, God!!!!! Why did You allow THIS to happen to US? Why HIM? Why not ME?!"

And all I hear is the deafening roar of ..... silence.

Still here .....

...... in spite of the fact that I don't hear my body speaking to me until it's screaming.  Hmmmm, I wonder if the kids would say that, too?

Today was better --- the pain in my back eased up, though I later started having shooting pains in other places.  Still, not too bad ...... until tonight.  Now my body seems to be mad that I took it out to dinner with the boys (but hey, only for about an hour) and it's mad that I didn't listen to D (who's only a nurse) and take pain meds today.  I figured that since I could deal with it better today I didn't want to feel wiped out.  She told me to keep taking them during the day since the pain comes in waves and it would be bad to have a wave hit and not be medicated.

     Well,  surf's up!   Still not as bad as yesterday and hopefully it will stay that way.  Even though I didn't keep up with the meds.

I admit it --- I'm a horrible patient.  

Go figure.  :)

Oh, and just to show how very strange the human mind can be --- or at least mine, .... my phone rang yesterday afternoon, and my mind instantly thought it might be Jim calling from work (and this was before I was medicated).  

I hate that.  I wish my mind would stop doing that.

It's not the moment that I think it's Jim that I hate. 

It's the remembering.  The remembering that it can't be him.

Remembering --- it can a tricky thing.

Time for a reminder

Warning:  this is a very honest and long post.  Continue at your own risk and don't think I'm speaking to a specific person.

     I think that's it time for a reminder on the kinds of things to say and to not say. 

      It seems that, as time goes on, friends and acquaintances seem to feel freer to give advise or maybe what they think is "encouragement".  

      I have to say that I love my friends dearly and don't know how I'd have coped this long without them.  Each is different and each helps in their own unique way.  And I'm not just talking about my so-called "inner circle" (I hate that phrase).  When I use the word "friend" I'm  talking about friends who say hi at church, or the grocery store, or tennis courts, etc.  I'm talking about Jim's friends and co-workers and school board members.  I consider all of you to be my friends -- our friends.  And I am not talking about one, or two, or even six people.  It seems to be a common thing and something I've probably even done in the past.  I know that you say and do every single thing out of love and only out of love.  But I'm continuing my attempt to be honest here.  Very, very honest.  You've all encouraged me to do that and I hope that you really mean it.  Because I need it.

But what I need from you is you, not your advice or fear of what I'm facing or not facing.  Not your fear that I'm in or out of counseling.  Not your fear that my relationship with my children is not what it should be.  Not your fear that my children are not talking enough.  Not of how I will feel in the future at certain events or when things happen.

   

     This is because you - have - no - idea.  None.  You are not in my shoes and you cannot give me advise unless I ask for it.  Please.   

I am doing the best I can.  It may not be not be what your best would be, but it's the best I can do.  And frankly, I think I'm doing pretty damn good, all things considered.  And so are my kids.  And so are my kids AND me.

      Another widow sent me this writing and I'm going to post it here (the author is unknown).  Many of the things she writes are things I've already posted here, but some are different.

I hope that you all remember that I love you and, again, there is NO finger pointing here.  I think this happens with most grieving people.  It seems to be quite common.  That's all I'm going to say, other than I need you.  All of you.  Each of you.

And I just thought it was time for a reminder (All emphases are mine). 

HOW YOU CAN HELP ME

Please talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is more
comforting to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talk
about him, and I need to do it over and over.

Be patient with my agitation. Nothing feels secure in my world. Get
comfortable with my crying. Sadness hits me in waves, and I never know
when my tears may flow. Just sit with me in silence and hold my hand.

Don't abandon me with the excuse that you don't want to upset me. You
can't catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid
to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I
most need to be cared about. If you don't know what to say, just come
over, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, "I'm sorry." You
can even say, "I just don't know what to say, but I care, and want you
to know that."

Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good. Ask me how I
feel only if you really have time to find out.

I am not strong. I'm just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feel
that you don't see me.

I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm
grieving and that's different. My grieving may only begin 6 months after
my loved one's death. Don't think that I will be over it in a year. For
I am not only grieving his death, but also the person I was when I was
with him, the life that we shared, the plans we had for watching our
children and grandchildren grow, the places we will never get to go together, and the hopes and dreams that will never come true. My whole world has crumbled and I will never be the same.

I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my
loved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and
love into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be,
and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a tear.
Both are okay.

I don't have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has
happened and it is real, but there are some things in life that are just
not acceptable.

When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and
alone. I feel badly enough that my loved one is dead, so please don't
make it worse by telling me I'm not doing this right.

Please don't tell me I can find someone else or that I need to start
dating again. I'm not ready. And maybe I don't want to. And besides,
what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren't. Whoever comes after will always be someone different.

I don't even understand what you mean when you say, "You've got to get
on with your life." My life is going on, I've been forced to take on
many new responsibilities and roles. It may not look the way you think
it should. This will take time and I will never be my old self again. So
please, just love me as I am today, and know that with your love and
support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget
and there will always be times that I cry.

I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, your
hugs. I need you just to be with me, and I need to be with you. I need
to know you believe in me and in my ability to get through my grief in
my own way, and in my own time.

Please don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I'll never call you
because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could
do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you
some ideas:

(a) Bring food or a movie over to watch together.
(b) Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and the
anniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can't
make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the
opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach out on this difficult day.
(c) Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. I
may say no at first or even for a while, but please don't give up on me
because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you've given up
then I really will be alone.
(d) Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples,
to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the same situations where I used to feel so comfortable.

Please don't judge me now - or think that I'm behaving strangely.
Remember I'm grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may feel
deep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I'm
experiencing a pain unlike any I've ever felt before and one that can't
be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.

Don't worry if you think I'm getting better and then suddenly I seem to
slip backward. Grief makes me behave this way at times. And please don't tell me you know how I feel, or that it's time for me to get on with my life. What I need now is time to grieve.

Most of all thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank
you for praying for me.

And remember in the days or years ahead, after your loss - when you need me as I have needed you - I will understand. And then I will come and be with you.

Little waves

This is my sweetheart on our honeymoon. We went on a cruise ..... and had a great time. What a cutie.

Today I spent over 2 hours signing Son #2 up for summer school. It was a bit draining. I had to wait in a long line, only to be given a ticket and told to head to the gym, where there were already over 200 people ahead of me. And it was freezing. Not just cold, but freezing. Everyone complained about it. Someone on the school board needs to look into how much money we're paying for energy bills. I think we could save a lot of money just in the gym at AHS!
Anyway, I finally had my number called, went into another gym and waited in another line. When I finally made it to the table the woman looked at my paperwork and then said she had no idea what the counselor had intended when she filled it out and she was going to turn me away to go back to his counselor and come back tomorrow. I asked her if she was telling me that I had been waiting for 2 hours for her to just send me home? She said sorry. Then she had someone look up Son #2's information on their system. After they brought it up she laughed and pointed at the screen and asked the other woman, "Did you see that?" I was wondering what she found so funny. Then she said, "That's impossible. We can't process this. They need to correct this. You can't exempt a final when you're failing a class!". And then I understood. I asked, "Are you talking about the finals for the first semester?" She said yes. I said, "He didn't exempt them. His father died and he didn't have to take them." And then she understood. The light dawned and she knew who I was. And then I started to cry. I tried so hard not to. I mean, there were hundreds of people in that room. But it was another wave. I didn't want to be there. I was upset that it seemed I had wasted my whole morning, freezing, all to no avail. And then I had to explain what happened when Jim died. I couldn't help it. And then she felt horrible. She took my hand and said, "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry." I told her it was OK. I just wanted to get out of there. But after that everything moved pretty quickly. It only took another 30 minutes or so. It helps when they recognize the name.
Little waves.
And V cannot come for a visit. It seems that huge storms hit Oklahoma last night and she couldn't get a flight out today. Or tomorrow. So we will wait until July when she can come and stay longer. I'm looking forward to that. I'm sorry that she can't come this week, but I'm OK with putting it off if that means more time with her later.
I went to a movie this afternoon and made two new friends. I can always use more friends.
I joined another tennis team yesterday. My old team kind of fell apart so I decided to join this team. The women on it seem to be a lot of fun and they also seem to really enjoy each other. I need that, too. More friendships. If I didn't join this team then I would've sat out for a season and I was really afraid that I would stop playing tennis as much if I did that. It's too easy to stop doing things and I have to watch out for that.
So tomorrow I play in a match and then I'm going with the decorator and Daughter #1 to pick out a floor tile for the kitchen, which should be torn apart in a few days.
I'm also trying to really ignore the fact that this Sunday is Father's Day. I'd like to take the kids somewhere and avoid the whole day. It may be a lake weekend.
More waves.
Next week is the writer's conference in NC. I haven't really put much thought into it, but I'm looking forward to it. More time with friends and hopefully meeting more new friends.
Friends help me stand up after the waves hit.
I think we need as many as we can get.
Thank God for friends.

I'm baaaaaack!

..... to reality.

The above picture is from our honeymoon (the water was crystal clear blue. The picture has aged ... a lot). We always loved the beach.

Well, it looks like the poll results indicate that most of you prefer hanging out on a beach rather than freezing your noses off on the slopes. Good choice.
I've never skied in warm weather so I can't add anything there. Although there would still be the propensity to fall down. At least for me.

I had a very relaxing time in Cabo. J, D and I enjoyed just hanging out and not having to go by a clock, but just by whatever the heck we wanted to do at the moment. It was very difficult to leave. I truly would've like to stay for a month.
Thank you, L, so much for this time. I can't thank you enough for your generosity. The condo was beautiful .... we loved it.
I needed it.

Here are some pictures that prove why we all enjoy being at the beach:



The waves were huge .... bigger than any I'd ever seen up close. The sting rays were constantly flying through the air and belly-flopping down. It was so neat.
We had great food, great conversation, great rest, great reading and great music. Too bad real life has to butt back in.

Son #1 left for the youth trip to Colorado today. He'll be gone a week. Daughter #2 is volunteering at camp this week. And tomorrow V is coming in for a few days! Yay!

I get to go enroll Son #2 in Sumer School tomorrow for 3 out o the 4 classes that he failed. He seems to be taking it all in stride. What a gift.
The kids did seem glad to see me, though, after a fashion. The kittens definitely seemed glad to see me! So yay for them!
Which remind me, anyone know that latest scoop on George? Did he meet someone while I was away? Didn't find him anywhere in Cabo. Sigh.
Here's my deep thought for the day: (you get a warning in case you want to stop now)
Yesterday I took a walk on the beach by myself. After walking quite a distance I decided to sit down and just watch the waves. Well, soon I noticed that quite a few sand crabs were digging their way to the surface. Then more and more of them were all around me. But they were a bit leery of a big creature in a polka dot suit with white sunglasses. They'd pop up, stand up their eyes on antennae, see me and then drop quickly back down. I also noted that every time a crab came out it would face away from the ocean. So it couldn't see the waves coming that would fill up its hole. But yet, each crab had some kind of built-in sensor system. It would "know" when a wave was coming and about 2 seconds before it hit, the crab would sink down its hole, safe and sound. I watched this for quite a while before it made me a bit sad. I thought, "Why does God seem to love the crabs more than He loves us ( I know he doesn't, it just sometimes feels that way)?" Whenever a huge life-altering wave would start to hit them dead-on, they'd feel the sense that told them to duck down, to get to safety. Why doesn't He do that with us? It seems as if He's sent several tsunami waves right at me over the last 6 months and He didn't give me the intuition I needed to duck down and protect myself. He just watched while I got smacked down and tumbled around and around and around by these waves.
I wonder why?

OK, I'm tired. Went too deep, I guess.
Pop in and say hi and tell me what you've been doing while I was lying on a beach.
:)