We measure much of our lives by firsts. Our first smile, tooth, step, day of school, recital, prom, graduation. These markers help us gauge our development and productivity. We anticipate these milestones. As I look at the year ahead, I see a lot of firsts: the first Christmas w/o Mom; the first time I won't get a card from her on my birthday w/ some gift or mad money; the first Easter where she won't have the foil-covered, chocolate Easter eggs evenly divided so each grandchild and great grandchild can find the same amount; the first Mother's Day w/o her; missing her 80th birthday. I don't want to measure time this way, but I don't have a choice.
And this lack of power is frustrating, but this too is how we measure our lives. We mark time by the people to whom we relinquish control: first our parents then our teachers and coaches then our employers. We're either fighting for control or fighting w/ those who control us. We have either the choice to submit or the choice to fight. My mother always spoke of my independent nature almost from my first breath so you know that I fit into the latter category that's usually fighting for control or fighting against who try to control. And then there is death. Yes, some commit suicide or use euthanasia as a way to regain control. For the rest of us, however, we have no control over when God calls us home.
As I see it, we again have two choices: we can walk around pissed at this lack of power and grumble through life, or we can submit and let someone greater than ourselves take the reins. One of my favorite memories of our Cancun vacation last summer was playing in the ocean w/ my younger daughter. We started out body surfing, which we quickly learned is much more enjoyable if you just let the waves take you where they will. Walk out into the ocean, the waves push you to shore, and the undertow sucks you back out. Understanding this ebb and flow is much less exhausting than resisting it. What was even more exciting than body surfing, however, was lying on my back just where the water crashes onto the shore and allowing it to toss me anywhere and everywhere it chose, tumbling end-over-end and side-to-side. By completely submitting, it was a ride and a rush that beat any roller coaster. I felt like I was playing w/ God, and it was the first time I was completely free and empowered by allowing someone else to have control. There really is a first for everything.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Saturday, 06 February 2010
One of my all-time favorite books is The Peabody Sisters of Salem by Louise Hall Tharp. The two younger sister, Mary and Sophia, are probably best known for the men they married. Sophia married the writer Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Mary married the education reformer Horace Mann. The oldest sister, Elizabeth, never married and was the one I admired most....not b/c she never married but b/c she was an independent woman of the 19th century who spoke her mind and stood her ground. She said one of the most profound statements that I have kept w/ me since I first read this book 30+ years ago. She said that she wasn't very good at keeping a journal of her life b/c she was too busy living it to take time to write about. I must agree w/ you tonight, Elizabeth, b/c I'm going dancing w/ my husband so I'm too busy living to write about it.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Friday, 05 February 2010
It feels good to makes plans again, and to see Dad make plans. He left a message on my cell phone this afternoon, something he's never, ever done before, to tell me he wouldn't be home tonight b/c he was visiting his sister. Today he had lunch w/ one of my brothers 40 miles away and then drove to my other brother's house. He had done these things w/ Mom, but this was his first time venturing to these places on his own. He's been working out in his shop again making a picture frame for Mom's funeral folder. The point is he's moving forward. My grieving has been lessened by making plans and getting on w/ life, and now I see Dad starting to realize that no matter how much he grieves and misses Mom, she's not coming back. Moping around an empty house won't comfort him, and as cliche as it sounds, life does go on. It doesn't go on in a straight line, more of a jagged, criss-cross, willy-nilly, topsy-turvy pattern. I'm tired of being afraid and guilty for being alive so that means we make plans. Plans to travel to Europe this summer; plans to watch softball games and track meets; plans to play tennis again; plans to go to bed..........I'm pooped.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Thursday, 04 February 2010
She actually listens to me..........my older daughter that is. She was comforting a friend whose sister was tragically killed in a car accident this morning when she told him something I had told her when she was first diagnosed w/ Crohn's Disease. Her friend was questioning why God would let his dad die due to cancer three months ago and now take his sister who was only a senior in high school. And here's where she said something to the effect of, "We can't know why, but we have to trust that God believes we have strength to handle this b/c he doesn't bestow this type of suffering on just anyone." I don't know if I was more proud that she had listened to me, or that she had been comforting this friend. I must admit she showed greater faith than I b/c when I learned of the tragedy all I could say was "Why? Why would God put that family through such pain?"
Mom always took the attitude that someone, somewhere was always in worse shape than she was. All we have to do is open our eyes and our hearts to that suffering, and we'll realize that we're pretty lucky. Once, while at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, for one of my daughter's many doctor appointments, we were humbled by a man who had obviously suffered from severe burns. He no longer had any eyes, merely indentations where the sockets used to be, and his nose was only two slits. He chatted pleasantly w/ the man who served as his guide. After he left the elevator we had shared, my daughter and I looked at each other and said, "Makes you realize there's always somebody worse off than yourself."
The loss of my mother pales in comparison to the loss of a husband and a daughter; a father and a sister within three months of each other. I hope the father was there to guide his daughter to God's presence, and I hope Mom was part of the Welcoming Committee.
Mom always took the attitude that someone, somewhere was always in worse shape than she was. All we have to do is open our eyes and our hearts to that suffering, and we'll realize that we're pretty lucky. Once, while at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, for one of my daughter's many doctor appointments, we were humbled by a man who had obviously suffered from severe burns. He no longer had any eyes, merely indentations where the sockets used to be, and his nose was only two slits. He chatted pleasantly w/ the man who served as his guide. After he left the elevator we had shared, my daughter and I looked at each other and said, "Makes you realize there's always somebody worse off than yourself."
The loss of my mother pales in comparison to the loss of a husband and a daughter; a father and a sister within three months of each other. I hope the father was there to guide his daughter to God's presence, and I hope Mom was part of the Welcoming Committee.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Wednesday, 03 February 2010
My unconscious mind seems to be in better shape than my conscious mind. First the unconscious.
Last night I dreamt that I was pushing my paternal grandfather in his wheelchair. We were in the woods, and I pushed him onto the porch of a cabin. I can still see his weathered face, white hair, and brace that he had to wear on his knee after a stroke. He told me to clear away some leaves below the porch, and when I got down there and started to clear away leaves and branches, a large spider, the size of a rat, scurried over my foot. I could feel the soft, furry underside of its bright, blue belly. I didn't scream, and I wasn't afraid, but when I looked up somehow Grandpa was standing beside me. According to http://dreammoods.com, dreaming about grandparents "symbolizes love, security, wisdom, and protection, " spiders are "symbolic of feminine power." It also said that seeing a spider means I'm feeling like an outsider, but it's a good thing I wasn't bitten by the spider b/c that would mean I have some unresolved conflict w/ my mother. Since the leaves were brown and withered on the ground, they represented sadness and loss. Even the porch is symbolic. Since I dreamt of an open porch w/o railings or enclosures, my personality is very outgoing. Basically it sounds like when I'm asleep I feel empowered and safe even while dealing w/ the loss of my mother. When I'm awake.........not so much.
Lately, in my waking hours, I've been worrying that other people I love will die. My husband is a line-haul driver, and I worry that, w/ all this snow and ice and fog, that he'll get into a fatal accident. Today my brother left a voice mail message on my cell phone. The way he started out the message made me jump to the conclusion that something bad had happened to a close family friend. Nothing did, but I had a momentary, sinking feeling that his message was going to be similar to the phone calls I received from him when Mom was in the hospital. I wouldn't say I'm paralyzed w/ fear, but maybe I have enough of it that my grandfather had to come protect me in my dream, and the spider had to remind me of my power as a woman.
Last night I dreamt that I was pushing my paternal grandfather in his wheelchair. We were in the woods, and I pushed him onto the porch of a cabin. I can still see his weathered face, white hair, and brace that he had to wear on his knee after a stroke. He told me to clear away some leaves below the porch, and when I got down there and started to clear away leaves and branches, a large spider, the size of a rat, scurried over my foot. I could feel the soft, furry underside of its bright, blue belly. I didn't scream, and I wasn't afraid, but when I looked up somehow Grandpa was standing beside me. According to http://dreammoods.com, dreaming about grandparents "symbolizes love, security, wisdom, and protection, " spiders are "symbolic of feminine power." It also said that seeing a spider means I'm feeling like an outsider, but it's a good thing I wasn't bitten by the spider b/c that would mean I have some unresolved conflict w/ my mother. Since the leaves were brown and withered on the ground, they represented sadness and loss. Even the porch is symbolic. Since I dreamt of an open porch w/o railings or enclosures, my personality is very outgoing. Basically it sounds like when I'm asleep I feel empowered and safe even while dealing w/ the loss of my mother. When I'm awake.........not so much.
Lately, in my waking hours, I've been worrying that other people I love will die. My husband is a line-haul driver, and I worry that, w/ all this snow and ice and fog, that he'll get into a fatal accident. Today my brother left a voice mail message on my cell phone. The way he started out the message made me jump to the conclusion that something bad had happened to a close family friend. Nothing did, but I had a momentary, sinking feeling that his message was going to be similar to the phone calls I received from him when Mom was in the hospital. I wouldn't say I'm paralyzed w/ fear, but maybe I have enough of it that my grandfather had to come protect me in my dream, and the spider had to remind me of my power as a woman.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Tuesday, 02 February 2010
I was contemplating writing something very brief tonight b/c I'm really tired and writing seemed like a lot of work. Then I thought about how hard Mom worked the last two years of her life and especially the last two months to fight the cancers and then the pneumonia. And she never complained. She just kept fighting. If the doctors said they wanted to do chemo or radiation or surgery, she said, "Okay," b/c she planned to fight to the end. She entered the hospital for the last time by ambulance b/c she was too weak to support herself. When I visited her the next day, Dad was rubbing lotion on her back, and with a thickness in his throat he said to her, "You quit on me, Ma. That's the first time you've done that." Living had just become too hard.
I've been thinking a lot today about the work ethic that my parents instilled in me. They had the American dream that hard work pays off, and whatever you want, you get it through hard work. But what if the effort isn't worth the result. Winter in Iowa requires a lot of work just to go outside, and is it worth it to freeze your fanny? When I lived in Texas, people who knew I was from Iowa would ask me if I had ever gotten tired of bundling-up each time I went outside in the winter. My response was that I didn't even think twice about it. It was just something we had to do, so we did it. Once I discovered there were places where I didn't have to wear four layers of clothing just to get from my house to my car, I began to notice just how much work I have to go through to live in Iowa in the winter. But this is my home so it's worth it, and maybe sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Relationships take work, and the more effort, the bigger the rewards. Sometimes I worry that I didn't work hard enough at my relationship w/ my mother. I know there were the early teens when I didn't think she knew anything, and my early 20's when I was too determined to make it on my own that I'm afraid she felt I didn't need her. I know I got the chance at the end to tell her that I loved her and needed here, but I don't think I did a very good job of showing that I needed her. That's something that's always been very difficult for me: to need others enough to let them help me. But needing and helping and loving are worthwhile, and anything worthwhile is worth work.
Looks like I was able to work harder tonight than I thought. That must mean this blog is worthwhile.
I've been thinking a lot today about the work ethic that my parents instilled in me. They had the American dream that hard work pays off, and whatever you want, you get it through hard work. But what if the effort isn't worth the result. Winter in Iowa requires a lot of work just to go outside, and is it worth it to freeze your fanny? When I lived in Texas, people who knew I was from Iowa would ask me if I had ever gotten tired of bundling-up each time I went outside in the winter. My response was that I didn't even think twice about it. It was just something we had to do, so we did it. Once I discovered there were places where I didn't have to wear four layers of clothing just to get from my house to my car, I began to notice just how much work I have to go through to live in Iowa in the winter. But this is my home so it's worth it, and maybe sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Relationships take work, and the more effort, the bigger the rewards. Sometimes I worry that I didn't work hard enough at my relationship w/ my mother. I know there were the early teens when I didn't think she knew anything, and my early 20's when I was too determined to make it on my own that I'm afraid she felt I didn't need her. I know I got the chance at the end to tell her that I loved her and needed here, but I don't think I did a very good job of showing that I needed her. That's something that's always been very difficult for me: to need others enough to let them help me. But needing and helping and loving are worthwhile, and anything worthwhile is worth work.
Looks like I was able to work harder tonight than I thought. That must mean this blog is worthwhile.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Monday, 01 February 2010
Here I am again at practically the 11th hour, writing my daily entry. My vision for this blog was that I would write every morning in anticipation of what the new day would bring in the grieving and healing process. But as usual, I'm using hindsight rather than foresight. With each post I've been reflecting on what I've done and felt rather than what I hoped to do and feel. I've let the days evolve, and sometimes erode, in a natural course. Perhaps instead I should take a more proactive approach and tell myself how I'm going to feel each day. Sorta like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Mom used to wonder how anyone could suffer from depression. She believed it was just a matter of convincing yourself to be happy, and you would be happy. She didn't think chemical imbalances in the brain were a legitimate excuse. I'm not sure if that made her naive, stubborn, or strong. Maybe all three.
Today was filled with living, which is the real reason my post is barely going to make it on the 1st of February. I communicated w/ three sections of students; watched my younger daughter play basketball and then dance; discussed music and art; learned that my older daughter and her fellow show choir members received a Division I rating at State; cleared the driveway and sidewalks of snow. Yes, I could've posted this morning in anticipation of all these activities, but I don't think it would've made me enjoy them anymore than I actually did. Life is about reflection just as much as it is about anticipation. In fact I'd say they are intricately and inescapably linked.
So here's my foresight for tomorrow...........the ground hog will hopefully see his reflection so we can anticipate spring is only six weeks away. Or is it if he doesn't see his reflection? I can never remember.
Today was filled with living, which is the real reason my post is barely going to make it on the 1st of February. I communicated w/ three sections of students; watched my younger daughter play basketball and then dance; discussed music and art; learned that my older daughter and her fellow show choir members received a Division I rating at State; cleared the driveway and sidewalks of snow. Yes, I could've posted this morning in anticipation of all these activities, but I don't think it would've made me enjoy them anymore than I actually did. Life is about reflection just as much as it is about anticipation. In fact I'd say they are intricately and inescapably linked.
So here's my foresight for tomorrow...........the ground hog will hopefully see his reflection so we can anticipate spring is only six weeks away. Or is it if he doesn't see his reflection? I can never remember.
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