My sister, Lynn, informed me that my blogs didn't seem to match up with the dates and times that I was blogging. No wonder - I hadn't changed the time stamp from Turkey to mountain time. Duh!
Today I am worn out. Physically and spiritually and emotionally. There are times when I think that I am just sleep walking through my life. Today is one of those days. I am getting enough sleep - probably 10 to 12 hours a night, but I still wake up exhausted. I go to find my clothes and they're not in the right place. They are how I left them here, but I still think I'm at Dad's. I miss the smell of his house. I miss sitting beside him watching Jeopardy, American Pickers, House Hunters International and football games.
Everyone in the family has other things going on. My sister Lori, God love her, is taking care of my Mom - who has Alzheimer's. My sister Lynn has a 12 year old and a 14 year old girl. Enough said.
My dear husband offers daily comfort and support for me. Daddy got to see it first hand. He loved the way we would step outside and sit and talk about our day every day. He told me once that if he and Mom had done that, they may have still been married.
We have a family of foxes in our backyard. He has a bad paw, and she won't leave him. They sleep under one of our trees in the backyard, and now there are babies. Foxes mate for life, and she won't leave him. I like that. It gives me hope.
A gentle breeze is blowing outside, and there is snow on Pike's Peak. It is a perfect day. Almost.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Be Encouraged
I have recently acquired some William Hemmerling artwork. He was an artist who moved from Chicago to the French Quarter. One day, while at Cafe DuMond, Jesus sat down across from him at the table. I know, I know, it's the French Quarter, but this was really Jesus. It changed his life. He passed away last year, but not after accumulating quite a sizeable body of work. My favorite right now is called Miss Takes. It says, "Be Encouraged. Trouble don't last. Wisdom. A diamond was at one time a piece of coal and a frog was once a tadpole. A river a stream, a star just a beam.
Daddy and David bought me four small ones, just prints, and had them framed for me for mother's day. Daddy said that after all I had done for him, it was the least he could do. It says, "At all times let thy garments be white and let not oil depart from thy head. Live joyfully with thy family whom thou lovest."
Well, Daddy, I guess I'll leave the wearing of the white to you, but I do intend to live joyfully with my family whom I love deeply." Thanks, Dad.
Daddy and David bought me four small ones, just prints, and had them framed for me for mother's day. Daddy said that after all I had done for him, it was the least he could do. It says, "At all times let thy garments be white and let not oil depart from thy head. Live joyfully with thy family whom thou lovest."
Well, Daddy, I guess I'll leave the wearing of the white to you, but I do intend to live joyfully with my family whom I love deeply." Thanks, Dad.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Night
I went to bed at 11:00 last night and got up at 12:30 in the afternoon. I am turning into one of those women you see in movies who stays in her gown and fuzzy slippers wandering around looking lost. I hope it is a phase. I think I am just worn out. I ran into our bedroom door at least 3 times in the dark. The doorknob on our door is opposite to what Dad's was. I keep thinking I'm there, and I can't get out of the room. My husband is threatening to lock it so that I don't fall down the stairs - they are located where Dad's toilet was.
I am trying to remember details, things I should be doing, how can I help my family? But I'm a mess myself. Me. The one who always gets up, showers, does her hair, puts on her make-up. Just in case I wander out of the confines of my home. But I don't. I don't want to. Crowds make me cry. It's just too much input, too much noise, too much to think about. For someone who has always had an active mind like mine, the inside of my head feels like a bog. And I'm not sure what will come out of it. It's dark in there, and kind of creepy. I would like to surgically open it, and take out the dark spots. But I think they have to come out on their own.
If I take a sleeping pill, then I do sleep, but I dream of Daddy. If I don't take a sleeping pill, I lie awake and think of Daddy. I feel like I should go and spend time with my Mother, though her mind has been troubled for years now with Alzheimer's. Would it make a difference to her? I hope so.
Life has a funny way of just moving on, even when you're standing still. And that's where I am right now, standing still. I keep telling myself, "swing your feet over the bed, stand up, and walk." It's a small step, but it usually works. But not today. Today, I am going back to bed - to read, to pray, and to remember Dad. As if I could ever forget.
I am trying to remember details, things I should be doing, how can I help my family? But I'm a mess myself. Me. The one who always gets up, showers, does her hair, puts on her make-up. Just in case I wander out of the confines of my home. But I don't. I don't want to. Crowds make me cry. It's just too much input, too much noise, too much to think about. For someone who has always had an active mind like mine, the inside of my head feels like a bog. And I'm not sure what will come out of it. It's dark in there, and kind of creepy. I would like to surgically open it, and take out the dark spots. But I think they have to come out on their own.
If I take a sleeping pill, then I do sleep, but I dream of Daddy. If I don't take a sleeping pill, I lie awake and think of Daddy. I feel like I should go and spend time with my Mother, though her mind has been troubled for years now with Alzheimer's. Would it make a difference to her? I hope so.
Life has a funny way of just moving on, even when you're standing still. And that's where I am right now, standing still. I keep telling myself, "swing your feet over the bed, stand up, and walk." It's a small step, but it usually works. But not today. Today, I am going back to bed - to read, to pray, and to remember Dad. As if I could ever forget.
Monday, January 3, 2011
What is Grief?
Grief is an emotion caused by a great loss such as death or another major life event that causes extreme feelings of loss. It is a painful mental process that usually occurs in stages. Symptoms are feelings of disbelief, sadness, confusion and anger.
Our entire family is in grief right now, and it comes in waves. My husband once said that grief is not linear, it comes and goes. The process of working through grief is a difficult one. On the one hand, if you let go, and allow yourself to feel joy, you immediately feel guilty for being happy after suffering loss. On the other hand, if you walk around crying all the time, displaying your emotions openly, people think that you are possibly over-reacting.
My dad was never one to show much emotion at all. I remember when his mother died, he cried, but he kept it to hinself - like he did most things. The thing that I am missing the most is being able to call him and discuss every day things. That stupid Saints game last night. Who's going to the Super Bowl? How can I help my son find his path?
We all did it. Everyone who knew dad spoke to him as if he had the wisdom of the ages - and in many ways he did. He was, quite simply, amazing.
For myself, I am taking it one minute at a time. I am trying to work up to one hour at a time, then two, and so on. I find myself reaching out to hold my husband's hand in the middle of the night to be sure that I am not alone. I'm not alone.
We gave Daddy the greatest gift we could have given him. We were all there with him when he passed away. Perfect ending to an exceptional life. Dad, we miss you. We love you. We hope you are jitterbugging in heaven, and that Mamma and Pappa are there with you. God speed, Daddy. May our dreams and remembrances of you never fade, but may the pain lessen as we move on. You always were and always be our Hero.
Our entire family is in grief right now, and it comes in waves. My husband once said that grief is not linear, it comes and goes. The process of working through grief is a difficult one. On the one hand, if you let go, and allow yourself to feel joy, you immediately feel guilty for being happy after suffering loss. On the other hand, if you walk around crying all the time, displaying your emotions openly, people think that you are possibly over-reacting.
My dad was never one to show much emotion at all. I remember when his mother died, he cried, but he kept it to hinself - like he did most things. The thing that I am missing the most is being able to call him and discuss every day things. That stupid Saints game last night. Who's going to the Super Bowl? How can I help my son find his path?
We all did it. Everyone who knew dad spoke to him as if he had the wisdom of the ages - and in many ways he did. He was, quite simply, amazing.
For myself, I am taking it one minute at a time. I am trying to work up to one hour at a time, then two, and so on. I find myself reaching out to hold my husband's hand in the middle of the night to be sure that I am not alone. I'm not alone.
We gave Daddy the greatest gift we could have given him. We were all there with him when he passed away. Perfect ending to an exceptional life. Dad, we miss you. We love you. We hope you are jitterbugging in heaven, and that Mamma and Pappa are there with you. God speed, Daddy. May our dreams and remembrances of you never fade, but may the pain lessen as we move on. You always were and always be our Hero.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
January 2, 2011
I look around my home today and see disorder. Not the kind that happens when you just didn't pick up the newspaper from yesterday. No, because I was only home 5 weeks this last year. I have absolutely no idea how career writers who travel to and fro across the continents manage. Are they slobs? Do they hire cleaning women? If so, where are these women?
I think the solution is the cleaning fairy. No wages, no place to live, just conjure them up when you need them. I feel silly today. I guess you can tell. For the first time in months, I had a wee too much to drink, crashed early and woke up late. Luxury. It is in the eye of the beholder.
Back to the mess in my home. I know that I need to clean, but not sure I'm going to. I will read the Sunday papers. I have already read my Scripture readings for today. That Cain guy - - bad dude. Really bad. Think I'll also call my sisters. Never really realized how much we love each other until Dad became so ill. Now, we're lifelines. It's like making a chain of inner tubes all hooked together with our arms, and approaching a waterfall. We're going up and down together. It's good. It's really good.
See why the cleaning hasn't gotten done yet? All of these things in my head, and they want to come spilling out. Well, I say "Let them!" I will not, however, promise to shape up, join a book club, or any of the other nonsense people promise for the New Year. I will make one promise - I will never forget my Dad. Make that two - I will do everything I can to stay close to my sisters. We're family. What else is there?
I think the solution is the cleaning fairy. No wages, no place to live, just conjure them up when you need them. I feel silly today. I guess you can tell. For the first time in months, I had a wee too much to drink, crashed early and woke up late. Luxury. It is in the eye of the beholder.
Back to the mess in my home. I know that I need to clean, but not sure I'm going to. I will read the Sunday papers. I have already read my Scripture readings for today. That Cain guy - - bad dude. Really bad. Think I'll also call my sisters. Never really realized how much we love each other until Dad became so ill. Now, we're lifelines. It's like making a chain of inner tubes all hooked together with our arms, and approaching a waterfall. We're going up and down together. It's good. It's really good.
See why the cleaning hasn't gotten done yet? All of these things in my head, and they want to come spilling out. Well, I say "Let them!" I will not, however, promise to shape up, join a book club, or any of the other nonsense people promise for the New Year. I will make one promise - I will never forget my Dad. Make that two - I will do everything I can to stay close to my sisters. We're family. What else is there?
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Hope - to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence.
In taking care of my father during the last 9 months of his life, this became our word. Hope. Hope for a cure. Hope that the cancer would reverse. Hope that he would see the new year. While none of these things happened, we still maintained our hope until the very end.
Curious thing, this hope. When it lets us down, we still hold on. When things seem impossible, it pulls us through. Next to love, I think it could be the most positive word in the English language.
Without it, where would we be?
Curious thing, this hope. When it lets us down, we still hold on. When things seem impossible, it pulls us through. Next to love, I think it could be the most positive word in the English language.
Without it, where would we be?
January 1, 2011
This has been a difficult year, in so many ways. I woke this morning with a sense of expectation over what the next year can bring! Hope springs eternal in the heart, and that's what is in my heart this morning. Although so many things really sucked this year, I feel that this year is a year of change - a year of freedom, a year I will enjoy!
I've grown closer to my two sisters, which is amazing. My husband and I have a closer relationship than ever - after ten years. I feel an expectation, like Christmas morning when I was little and believed in Santa.
I believe. I do believe.
I've grown closer to my two sisters, which is amazing. My husband and I have a closer relationship than ever - after ten years. I feel an expectation, like Christmas morning when I was little and believed in Santa.
I believe. I do believe.
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