5/9/13: LESSONS LEARNED

Hard to miss the fact that today marks one year since L’s death. Friends have been overwhelmingly concerned and supportive as the day approached–today there have been calls and cards and wonderful vibes of their love and support surrounding me.

Last night I found myself reliving those final hours and counting my blessings that I was with him and that it was just the two of us at home as he had always wanted. He was so afraid that he would die in hospital–he hated that idea.

I also found myself looking back over this last year and realizing how I have found my way–sometimes with sadness and even anger; most times with the assurance that I was moving forward as L had wanted me to–that I honor his life by moving on with mine. At the same time I know that I have more “promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep” on this journey. In some ways marking this anniversary makes tomorrow feel like a new beginning–a second year–perhaps a little like the freshman in college feels having completed that first year and moving on feeling more experienced and equipped to handle what may come..  There are–I am certain– many more lessons to be learned, many more tests to be endured, many more slips and slides that will make me cringe. The one thing I know for sure is that L has kept his promise to be there with me every step of the way. I feel his presence, hear his laughter as well as his concern with every decision I make. And with that in mind I look back on a year that has gone by with excruciating slowness and at the same time seems impossible to believe. Wasn’t it just yesterday???

Here are a few of the lessons I learned on my journey–year one:

• The need to fill in the time gaps—times when I would have been doing something with/for L—planning dinner, watching TV, going to doctor appointments, picking up meds, setting up social dates, working on newsletter for his volunteer work, talking, laughing—even arguing. Hours and hours every day that were suddenly empty and without purpose.
• The disbelief lingered all year—there are still days when I am in the middle of something and I simply cannot believe that he is never coming back.
• The restructuring—of the rooms in the house, of plans for each day-week-month, of relationships suddenly shifted by the absence of L.
• The loss of self-identity—who am I now? (That’s actually the title of a song added to the film: FUNNY GIRL!) Who will I become? How will I achieve that?
• The surprises – travel held little appeal; buying the place in Florida felt incredibly “right”; the fact that I could continue to work—lose myself in the stories and characters for hours each day was a surprise and a blessing.
• The physical worries—what if something happened? How would EMTs get in? Who would they call? The weight gain. The disinterest in eating and so the improper diet. (Plan for start of year 2 = health/weight.)
• The friends—who was there throughout the year—and who was not. The wonderful gifts of friendships that blossomed where they had been only buds before.
• The ongoing confusion about how I was “supposed” to feel–was I grieving enough? There was always a bit of “survivor” guilt going on and it does linger.
• How to explain that although I am doing “fine” I am still a work in progress and what is “fine” today may have shattered by tomorrow. A pronouncement of some future plan or intent made today may be taken back tomorrow or next week.
• The connection to others through this blog and in books and in real life. The comfort of knowing that there is no formula–no right or wrong–for finding the road through grief.
• The acceptance that for decades I have lived in a couples world and while those ties are strong and unbreakable, the fact remains that I need to find ways to broaden my world–to do the very thing that L feared I would not do: reach out to others.

With so much yet to do–I suspect that the entries to this blog will be ever less prolific–but I will continue to record the journey and I hope that it will continue to comfort and support.

5/1/13: The Devil’s in the Details

Yesterday was a tough day. I’ve been fighting bronchitis for weeks now and yesterday I had all these additional symptoms–stomach cramps, sleeping, fierce headache and of course the coughing jags. I was on a deadline for my next book and needed to read through it before sending it off to the editor. The weather was beautiful and eighty degrees but I was chilled all day. Poor me! The main thing I took away from this experience was the absence of anyone else in the house to commiserate or act as a safety net should things take a turn for the worse. I have many people that I could call starting with neighbors and moving on to family and friends–but that realization that I would NEED to call someone–that there is no one here but me was new. Because I am overall a healthy person this was a new first for me. A new detail of widowhood that I needed to face just when I had thought I was managing so well.

Another thought I had today concerning “details”–choices made or rejected: I was driving past a haircut place that had posted a sign for a sale on haircuts and all of a sudden I remembered that this was where L had gone for his last haircut about this time last year. But that was not what came immediately to mind–what I remembered was how he charmed the woman cutting his hair and how when she said she was putting the settings for the clippers into their computer system so they would know next time he smiled and agreed–knowing there would be no next time but choosing not to burden her with that news.

So it’s about choices–L knew that and he practiced that. I’m trying to follow his example.

4/21/13: And I stumble but do not fall…

Excellence–excelling at some task–was something I was taught throughout my life.  It is a trait ingrained in me–a trait I know some would think of as competitive. But I am driven to get things right and this “widow” thing is no exception.

Since returning from Florida I have struggled more and more–some would say it’s the weather over the last several weeks in Wisconsin. It’s been unceasingly gray, gloomy and cold with bone-chilling dampness and sharp winds off of Lake Michigan. There has been what has at times seemed to be enough rain that a person might seriously consider building an ark. And I suppose there is an element of that in the downward slide I have made emotionally and spiritually these last weeks. Some would say that the fact that I have been fighting bronchitis for six weeks now and that I have a deadline for my next book looming have been major contributors to my feelings of depression. All valid assumptions.

But as Oprah would say, here is what I know for sure: I am so very tired of starting over, of having to adapt my life to circumstances not of my own making, of finding a way to move forward…alone. And then came this last week and four events that shifted my outlook albeit ever so slightly. I started reading Joyce Carol Oates memoir about widowhood; the Boston Marathon bombings kept me riveted to the TV for hours on end; the West, TX fertilizer plant fire and explosion reminded me of the town where I grew up in the hills of southwestern Virginia; and the film “42″ about the life of baseball great Jackie Robinson touched me in unexpected ways.

So here is the second thing I know for sure:  when L and I were facing together the end of his life our mantra became “It is what it is.” In an interview with TN women’s basketball coach Pat Summitt who is facing life with a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s I heard her add a key second line to that statement: “It is what it is and it will be whatever we choose to make of it.” I have choices I can make, roads I can take or not,  self-pity that I can either wallow in or reject.

My therapist has told me several times that Albert Einstein’s definition of insanity is doing the same thing the same way time and again and expecting a different result. I do that a lot–always going back to the same perceived slights and issues and how I would like for them to change. It is way past time to let go of that kind of pettiness…L always counseled that and it made him so very sad that I would be “better” for a time but would  eventually circle back around to the same whining. In the play A Raisin in the Sun, there is a line about how life is not a circle but an unending line–one we cannot see the end of and one we can only move along addressing the situation we find ourselves in at this moment and making plans for the future with the full understanding that those plans may change.

I was married for over four decades to a man who knowing his future with a certainty that most of us never have CHOSE to live his life with grace and humor, CHOSE to place the focus of his days on me and on others; CHOSE to have no regrets when the end came because he knew that he had done everything he could for as long as he could. He had never given up but rather let go of pieces of that life as the reality of his limits dictated. Surely in honoring his memory and that life so well lived, I, too, learn to “let go” and move forward with purpose so that whenever my end may come I too will be able to look back without regret.

3/27/13–Surprises along the way

It has been some time since I wrote on this blog and much has happened. I was in Florida for the winter–something I had promised L I would do although the idea of being there without him (in spite of a host of caring friends there as well as here in Wisconsin) made me hesitatnt to commit to a time frame for being there.  Still there’s something to be said for taking next steps in life by walking on a beach rather than trying to plow through snow.

The first surprise came in the form of the people down there– another widow who I have admired greatly but known only slightly agreed to have dinner with me and talk about her experiences now that she’s several years out from the actual death of her husband. He–like L–suffered for several years and my friend was cast in the role of caregiver as was I. We talked at length and I learned that much of what I have experienced was similar to what she had gone through. Following that dinner we went to a couple of movies together and in general connected on a level we had not known before. And I knew that L would be so pleased because he admired and respected her so very much.

The second surprise came in the form of “the guys”–men L used to talk sports with and watch games with started sending me e-mails to comment on a game or player. Their respect for my sports knowledge touched me greatly and the fact that these male friends that I had counted as much mine as L’s did not feel the need to stay away was so very touching.

The third surprise was the biggie–always before he died L would ask me several times a week to talk about what I was going to do once he was gone. We both thought that I would travel because our ability to travel–which we both loved–had been so compromised by his illness. I came to Florida with the idea that I would use the time there to plan a trip or two. There’s a couple I’ve gotten to know who run small group tours to Europe and I had for many years longed to take one of those. Imagine my surprise when I realized that–for now–I have zero interest in traveling.

But that’s not the surprise–the surprise came when I went to look at a condo thinking I was looking at it for my sister and her husband and realizing that as I stood in that space with light streaming through the many windows that I could see ME living there and I felt such a sense of peace and happiness as I had not felt since L died. Things did not go smoothly and yet I felt L with me–prodding me to see this adventure through–every step of the way. All along I kept it quiet from my friends but sought the advice of professional friends–my banker, tax accountant, a real estate attorney in Florida and a friend whose business is buying (and reselling) property. With their support and encouragement and that of my family I moved (make that inched) closer and closer until on March 12th, I found myself the owner of a FL condo–a second home–an investment property that will hopefully bring me years of that same feeling of peace and happiness.

I am well aware that most in my position cannot salve their grief by buying a 2nd home–that is not the point. What happened here was that something moved me in a new direction — I turned a corner and I saw before me the possibility that once I turn dozens and perhaps thousands of corners I will find my way.  Now that I am back home in Wisconsin, I will admit that there has been a sense of letdown–the excitement and angst of that adventure in Florida is over for the time being. I have a lot of work to do, deadlines to meet, etc. What has not changed is that time of day–right around now at six or seven in the evening–when I have to face yet again the fact that he is not going to be there to watch the TV shows tonight, to talk about the news of the day…to ask me what I plan to do once he’s gone…

2/23/2013: L’s Birthday…

Today about two dozen friends and I held a 2nd memorial celebration of L’s life–it was fitting that it came on his birthday. He had asked me to be sure and do something here in Florida for those friends who could not come to Wisconsin last May. What a wonderful event it turned out to be. There is a long bridge from mainland Sarasota over to the barrier islands. Every year he was here L took great pride in riding his bike up and over that bridge and back again. The last year he was down here toward the end of the season he came back one day and said, “I made it to the top of the bridge today.” I knew that was the last time he would manage that and sure enough that was the day he stopped riding his bike. So the friends and I walked to the top of the bridge–a long gradual climb and there we had a moment of silence, then dropped orchid and rose petals. Because of the strong wind they petals flew through the air and way out onto the water as they landed. One person said looking down at the water so far below that they looked like a cluster of butterflies and it was true. It was SO beautiful. Afterwards we had lunch at L’s favorite pizza place. I had given the chef there L’s recipe for salmon patties (one of his standard meals when he cooked) and the chef took the recipe and made up appetizer sized patties for us to enjoy. I had also ordered L’s favorite frozen custard sent from Wisconsin for dessert. It was a day of surprises and stories and laughter–a bittersweet day to be sure–but as always with L the emphasis was on the “sweet.”

A Zen Proverb…..

A Zen Proverb…
Sit quietly,
doing nothing.
Spring comes,
and the grass grows by itself.

2/16/13: A VERY SPECIAL VALENTINE’s DAY

It all started about five weeks ago when I went to look at a condo here in Sarasota in a wonderful old 1920′s building that I have admired since I started coming down here. I had been playing around (procrastinating really) looking at various condo offerings because I thought my sister was planning a move and this one came up–totally wrong for her but I couldn’t get it off my mind. I had no intention of ever buying a second home anywhere–L and I both always thought that what I would do once he died was travel since we had been unable to do that these last several years. But I discovered over the last several months that travel is nice but it’s not all that key to my happiness.

I finally (after actually bookmarking the site so I could look at the pictures daily) told myself that I should go see it. I rationalized that the online pictures always make a place look better than it really is and that by going to see it I would be able to get it off my mind. SO WRONG!! What happened next was very stunning, spiritual and the beginning of an adventure I would never have guessed would be possible.

I walked into the place (which had several humongous downsides like no elevator!!) and for the first time since L died I felt such a sense of peace and calm and happiness. Happiness was a feeling I almost couldn’t recognize because I had been sad and unhappy for so long but whatever I called it, I felt GOOD! Long story a little shorter I actually began the process of investigating, made an offer, and ultimately lost the opportunity to live there to another buyer.

But the story does not end there–I now felt so strongly that this was something I was supposed to do that I visited an open house here in the complex where I rent. While this place does not come close to the wonderful character and history of the first place, it has several features (like an elevator and outside space) that the other place did not. On top of that it feels right. I realized that for me a place of my own has always been a key to my inner peace and happiness. I love my landlords and feel so at home in their place and through the years they have given me lots of freedom to make the place as much mine as it is theirs–they even refer to it as “our” place.  But the drive to settle into a “home” here as I have a “home” in Wisconsin was overpowering.

On Monday I made an offer.

On Tuesday the sellers countered and I countered back with my absolute bottom line offer.

On Wed. they turned that down–the deal was dead.

I was devastated.I knew the search was over at least for this season because I have much to accomplish between now and my return to Wisconsin in March. I could not understand why after all the weeks of the roller coaster of the adventure, why was it in the end going to come to nothing? I had a good cry and, yes, I will admit that I kept asking L why he had allowed me to get my hopes up not once but twice.

On Valentine’s morning I took a long walk on the beach, talking to myself about the importance of letting this go and focusing on the realities of what I need to get done over the next few weeks–taxes, a book that’s due; revisions on other books; etc. I went to breakfast with friends–by the way only 3 other people knew anything about this so no one had a clue. I came home and started to work. That moment of peace and happiness seemed very much an illusion but I reminded myself that many many people out there would LOVE to have my “problems” and went back to work.

My phone rang around noon and it was the broker telling me the sellers had reconsidered and would like to accept my final offer…it was Valentine’s Day and the feeling of breathing out and filling up with joy was back enhanced by an enormous sense of pure love surrounding me. I knew that I had made the right decision and I know that this is a huge step toward defining the life I must live now that he’s gone. I am so very blessed

 

1/23/13: The Checklist…Part 2

I realized recently that I have created this checklist in my head of things I need –feel compelled — to do. These are not things anyone else–least of all L–expects me to do. They are completely self-imposed. Still I find the ability to ‘check them off’ one by one incredibly therapeutic. Here are some examples…

• when my brother and sister-in-law came to visit they stayed with me and for the three nights they were here we probably grew closer in those three days/nights than we’ve been in years. Each night we sat out on the balcony (this is Florida after all!) and talked until past midnight…it was a wonderful visit.
• next I went with a group of friends to Sanibel Island off the Gulf Coast of Florida for a long weekend of shelling. The tides were supposed to be especially low during this time and that usually bodes well for finding treasures on the beach. We were up and out before daylight most mornings–flashlights in hand. But the truly special parts of that was shutting off the lights and just standing on the beach looking up at the sky–black with billions of stars. It was so inspiring, so indicative of our insignificance in the great universe. I spent hours walking the beaches where L and I planned out huge chunks of our life together–when he decided to go on his own with the Mom-and-Pop business that sustained us for years; when I went (kicking and screaming) to work for corporate America so we would have health insurance; when we planned my next book or our next trip…so many memories created on those beaches.
• last weekend I traveled to visit friends  south of here who had for the last several years always had to come to us because L could not handle the traveling to their homes; it was strange driving by myself (thank goodness for GPS!!) and it’s still hard being a “single” when we are out to eat, but overall it was a good visit with wonderful friends who have played significant roles in our life.

The checklist also includes other things–finances, decisions about the future, my writing projects and deadlines…somehow it works for me to complete each project or item…I suspect it is a way of moving forward. And in the final analysis that is what this journey is really about…

1/1/13: The Checklist

And so I have made it through the holidays–quite peacefully actually. I feel L’s presence with me in almost everything I do and over the last week or so have only really had one slip/breakdown. As I sat here last night quietly bringing in the New Year it occurred to me that true to my nature I have unknowingly created a kind of checklist of things I need to take care of before I can focus on my own future. Let me be perfectly clear here–NO ONE has inferred that I need to do these things–they are strictly self-inflicted. But they are part of the path I feel I need to follow to lead me to my new future.

What’s on the checklist?

Little stuff–perhaps even stupid stuff like organizing not only my studio and condo back in Wisconsin but also this place that I rent here in Florida–this morning was spent reorganizing where the beach toys/chairs, etc. are stored to make them more accessible to those who stay here.

Must-do stuff like preparing the tax info for the accountant and praying I get it right!!

Good-for-me-in-spite-of-myself stuff like joining an exercise program that REQUIRES me to show up and do the work.

Friendship-stuff like making sure I travel to visit everyone here in Florida since for the last few years they always had to make the trip here to see us.

Get-it-done stuff like writing the books on my schedule.

Plan-ahead stuff like figuring out my schedule for the next several months.

Nothing huge–just normal life and I do get it that the list will likely continue to grow and will never truly be done. But the good news is that on this first day of 2013 I do feel as if I am moving forward–not that I don’t have my sad/bad/furious-at-the-unfairness-of-it-all times. But if L: taught me anything it was that this is the moment (not the hour or day–but the MOMENT) we get so use it well or lose it forever.

And in this moment it is a gloriously sunny warm day outside and I will not lose it…Happy New Year!!

12/25/12 The Work of Christmas…

From last night’s Eve service, a quote from Howard Thurman:

When the song of the angels is stilled

When the star in the sky is gone

When the kings and princes are home

When the shepherds are back with their flock

The work of Christmas begins:

• to find the lost
• to heal the broken
• to feed the hungry
• to release the prisoner
• to rebuild the nations
• to bring peace among people
• to make music in the heart.

This my first holiday season without L has been an eye-opening experience filled with unexpected surprises and “gifts” in the form of calls and cards from so many, a visit from two people I have had contact with for years but am just beginning to truly know (and appreciate), family, friends, tears and laughter. It has indeed been a joyous season–a time for reflection on the wonderful life I have been given and always always the realization that L continues to be with me in spirit if not in body and for that I am so very thankful. Blessings to you and yours! Anna