Good days, challenging days. Blessed days, forgotten days. There are days that you want to remember forever and days that you really don’t.
Yesterday, I asked M to clean up some of the outdoor toys for the grandchildren to play with when they came to the house. I had gotten a bucket and sponge together and handed them to M, along with a bottle of dish soap and told him what needed to be cleaned.
M: Do I need to put water in here? Me: Yes, you’ll need water. M: Should I use hot or cold water? Me: It’s up to you. Do you want to clean the toys with hot or cold water?
He seemed very confused by the whole process, but eventually got the job done. Our grandson had a great time hunting for Easter eggs at the house and loved playing with all the freshly cleaned toys. Win!
Later, my daughter-in-law told me that my sons had talked to M about taking a guy’s road trip to Philadelphia for a Phillies baseball game this summer, but that M hadn’t seemed interested in doing it. WHAT?!?!
I talked to him about it later, after everyone had gone home and he didn’t say much. Just that he wasn’t sure about the time and that he knew he couldn’t miss work.
As long as it’s a weekend trip, these are the things he NEEDS to be doing now – while he can. I want to encourage it and I’m so grateful to our boys for thinking of it. I’m going to talk it up and do everything I can to make it happen. I think it will be a great thing and something the boys will always remember.
Had a GREAT evening last night. A couple of friends and I got together for dinner and it was a real treat to sit and laugh and tell stories and eat my weight in chips and salsa for an evening. I can’t tell you how much I needed some time like that. I was out later than I intended to be, but M did just fine with me being gone – he and the pups were in bed, watching a baseball game on TV when I got home.
As I was talking to my friends last night, we got on the subject of behavior and how people act and respond to each other. When you’re in a long-term relationship (like a 35 year marriage) you expect certain behaviors and responses. And they fall into two categories – acceptable behaviors and unacceptable.
As we talked more about it, we discussed M and his responses to things and events now vs. how he used to respond. It’s not that his responses are unacceptable if you define unacceptable as cruel or violent or mean. But his responses are not what I’ve been “taught” (for lack of a better word) to expect after all these years. So I’m caught off guard by his responses – or lack of response.
What I have to realize – and this is where I think I’m having a problem – is that he’s not going to change, so I’m the one who has to change the way I respond to him.
Intellectually, I know this. And when I’m well rested and calm and not hungry and not stressed and not hurried or anxious, it’s easy for me to respond to him in a calm and measured way. But how many minutes in a day am I feeling that peaceful?
Maybe ten?
Life isn’t like that. Life is hurried and flying by the seat of your pants and put together with spit and kleenex. And we’ve discussed how little (none) patience I have. And now I’m trying to change 35 years of my “natural” response.
Then we add to all this how unfair I’m still feeling it is. I’m still angry. I look around at other people . . . people who are drug users, alcoholics, serial marriage cheaters, wife beaters and I think why? Why was this wonderful, caring, kind man struck with such a horrible disease when all these other jerks are still walking around being jerks?
I used to think that when I died, the first thing I was going to ask God is why I couldn’t sing when I was here on earth. I love to sing, but I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Now, I think I have bigger questions.
A situation I noticed, as things have been changing lately, is that things that were once important to M don’t seem to be that important any more.
The job that I have now, and that I’ve had for the past eight years, is 30 miles and roughly 35 minutes away from home. I don’t know why, but when I started the job, M decided that he wasn’t happy with me driving so far from home and he wanted me to text him when I arrived at work every day. It wasn’t a big deal, it made him happy, so I did it – just a “good morning, love you” text for the day. There were some days that would get busy the minute I walked in the door and I might forget, but generally speaking, I would text him every work day.
When M changed positions with his job last summer, he was no longer in a job that allowed him access to his phone during the work day. So, even if I sent him a text, he wouldn’t see it. And, of course, he never responded to any of the texts I sent, so I stopped sending them.
Then yesterday happened.
There is a prison about five miles from here. Most of the inmates are older or under medical care, so it’s a minimum security prison. Yesterday, one of the prisoners escaped and was spotted near our office. I sent M a text, letting him know our business was on lock down and that no one could move about on our campus.
His response: OK.
Now I know, he’s not supposed to be using his phone while he’s working and if I’m texting him, then he knows I’m safe. But I know how my husband would have responded eight years ago to news that my company was on lock down. And then I compare that to an “OK” with no follow-up when he had lunch or a break . . . I just had to smile and shake my head. It was another one of those differences I’ve noticed.
BTW – they caught the guy about 10 miles from here, on his way to his home town. He didn’t get very far.
Spring break! It’s finally starting to feel like spring around here and I love it! The flowers are blooming, the sun is shining and it’s warm enough to sit outside at lunch and enjoy the beautiful day.
We have company coming to visit later this week, so M and I were getting the guest bedroom together last night. We were almost done when I realized I was missing a pillow case. I asked M to go back to the linen closet to see if the pillow case that matched the sheets we were using was still there. I could hear him down the hall, opening the closet door, then shutting it. Then he went into another bedroom and brought me a spare pillow. And asked me if it was an extra pillow that I needed.
Nope.
I asked him if he had seen the pillow case that I was missing in the linen closet and he said “no,” but I wasn’t sure whether or not to trust that answer, since he had brought me a pillow. He went downstairs to the laundry room and said that he found the missing pillow case in the dirty clothes. Although now that I’m typing this up . . . I never actually saw it myself. Hmmm.
This morning, as I was getting the trash together to go out to the street, M had the search on for his iPod. It wasn’t on the counter, where he usually has it charging every evening. So he went around the house looking for it and finally found it. After he left, I got my coffee and went back upstairs for my 30 minutes of reading enjoyment. I was able to tell EXACTLY where he had been, looking for his iPod because the lights were left on in every room he had entered. It was like a trail of breadcrumbs.
I’ll be the first to admit – these things used to make me so annoyed and angry. Now they make me laugh. He’s not going to change, so I have to change and embrace them – and him.
We had a really good weekend. We attended a local film festival and saw “In Saturn’s Rings” a film comprised of over 450,000 photographs from the Cassini spacecraft during its mission to Saturn. M is very interested in astronomy and really enjoyed the film and the presentation by the film makers afterwards. If you have the opportunity to see it, I highly recommend it. Afterward, we stopped and got a pizza and had time to talk and laugh . . . just a fun day.
In the course of our conversation, I told M about an email I had received from one of his brothers where he (the brother) said “take good care of my brother.” And that I had thought it was sweet. M laughed and shook his head and said “I really don’t think there’s anything wrong with me.”
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to think that way? Because I don’t think that way AT ALL about myself. I know for a fact that my memory isn’t what it used to be. I know my hearing is declining. What is that song – The Old Grey Mare Ain’t What She Used to Be – that’s me!! I’m aware of it. But M is secure in the fact that he is just fine and unchanged. I’d love to know what life is like in that world. Maybe that’s what Saturn is like.
Sunday we worked in the yard and tried to get some things done outside before the rain hit. But it seemed like every time I walked back to the house, the back door was standing WIDE OPEN. It’s another one of those things – like leaving the lights on when he leaves a room – M is not shutting the door behind himself. And then he’ll say “what’s the big deal?”
Now, if you want to drive me crazy, put a fly in my house. Leaving the back door wide open will put 4 or 5 flies in my house. And then watch me lose my mind. I don’t think I would ever have made it as a farm girl. I could handle the dirt, the early hours and the work, but the flies would have been the end of me.
Yesterday ended with M on flyswatter duty. He did get them all before dinner – thank goodness!
I hope you enjoy this photo of Saturn, back-lit by the sun. See if you can spot yourself in the lower right corner.
Today, I’d like to share a message I received from Danielle LaPorte. If you don’t follow her, on her various social media platforms, I encourage you to do so. She writes amazingly insightful commentary on all sorts of topics. But this one is about grief. And when I read it, it made me realize that I am and I have been grieving . . . not only for what M is going through and how it is affecting me, but for the life that I (we) had all planned out for us in my mind. And that life is not going to be.
I hope you’ll find this as meaningful and helpful as I do.
the goddess of grief: getting to the other side. (and there is always another side.)
Grief is one of the most powerful Goddesses. She swallows your agony and lets it tear her apart. Beautiful birds fly from her belly—each one an insight into life and your power. Grief brings the whole flock to your window, and she waits and waits to reveal universal truths to you. She goes to the depths with you. She rises with you.
Grief won’t rest until you swallow the medicine she made especially for you, and tell her your story of death… and life.
HOW TO ABSORB THE MEDICINE OF GRIEF
1. Grief messes with your focus. When she’s tap-tap-tapping on the door of your consciousness, it becomes difficult to concentrate. You’re not sure what the priorities are, not sure where to put your attention, and when you do put it somewhere, it slips off easily. Time does not feel fresh, it feels a bit stale. Launching new things feels awkward, subtly inappropriate.
2. Give your self space to meander, aimlessly. Aim less. Under achieve. Be confused. As Nietzsche said, “You must have confusion in your heart to give birth to stars.” You are giving birth to a new reality. It takes tremendous resources. Healing hurts before it feels right.
3. Grief is patient. Grief may operate on a time-release capsule system. She’ll let you be busy and distracted for a long period of time before she descends. She respects survival mechanisms and the necessities. So go ahead and throw yourself into work or hobbies. Just know that…
4. Denying grief her power squelches your vitality. You can dream and laugh and march on, but until you swallow the bitter tea that Grief has brewed, things won’t be as vibrant or grounded as they could be. And that’s half dead.
5. Recognize where you are numb. Notice the memories that ouch the most. This is the beginning of response-ability.
6. Grief crystallizes in your body. The medicine will get stuck in your muscle memory and joints. It needs to circulate and be digested. You have to dance grief to the surface. Stomp. Rock. Stretch. Move without your intellect getting in the way. Keep moving.
7. Grief thinks scars make for great tattoos. Accept that you’ll never be the same. Trauma marks you. Embrace how much more dimensional you’ve become.
8. Someone just reminded me, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” (Maya Angelou). Grief needs to hear your story told. Speak it out to a sacred listener. Be witnessed. And then…
9. Tell a new story—one that includes the description of how you healed.
We’re getting ready for a trip – we’ll be taking a cruise to Alaska soon. It’s one of those things we have always wanted to do and had planned to do once we retired. When we received M’s diagnosis, we decided things like this shouldn’t/couldn’t wait – so here we go.
Last night, we sat down to look at the excursions that are part of the trip to decide what we wanted to do. Wow. There were so many to choose from and getting M to make a decision was like pulling teeth. He would suggest something like a brewery tour and tasting, which would be fine. But I can’t drink alcohol because it will give me a raging migraine headache and he stopped drinking beer years ago because he saw it was becoming a problem for him. So, a brewery tour and tasting would be a waste of time and money for us.
Then there was the matter of his glasses. Of course, the prescription glasses that he SHOULD be wearing all the time are in his car – he wears them only if he’s driving at night. Scattered around the house are “readers” but for some reason, he couldn’t seem to put his hands on a pair of them last night. I think I’m going to order a 10-pack of them from Amazon and have a pair in every room, just like I do with my chapstick tubes.
On a happy note, we did choose an excursion that will allow us to spend some time with husky puppies. Now, THAT is going to be a ton of fun!!
Yesterday was a strange one. Cloudy all day and it looked as though it was going to rain, but never did. M said he stayed in bed until noon, but he had vacuumed the entire house before I got home, which was a nice surprise. He was feeling fine and had eaten dinner by the time I got home, so we took the dogs and went for a walk.
Later, we were watching TV and a commercial came on for “Game of Thrones.” He and I saw the very first episode of that show at my brother & sister-in-law’s house several weeks ago when we visited with them. We’ve talked about it a couple of times since then and agreed that if we watched a few more episodes it might grow on us but, based on that first one, we didn’t really like it. Last night, he said: “Have you ever watched that show?” Me: Game of Thrones? M: Yeah – have you ever seen it? Me: Yes, you and I watched it together at J and T’s house. We said we didn’t like it. M: Okay.
And then he went on with whatever he had been doing.
Later there were some forms he needed to sign and date. Very simple – signature and date (4-9-19). There were sticky arrows on each paper that even said “sign and date here” so there was no question about what was needed and where it was needed. For each paper, I had to repeat, not only “sign and date” but “four dash nine dash nineteen.” For every. Single. Paper.
But here’s the good thing – he doesn’t get upset or angry or frustrated. He just laughs and keeps on going. I’m incredibly grateful for that, because I know it could be so different. He could really lose his temper and be unpleasant to deal with during these forgetful times. I have to remember to be thankful that he is accepting all of this so well.
Over the weekend, M wanted to put weed and feed on our lawn and was convinced that our older son, K, had our spreader at his house. So he texted K to see about getting it back. We didn’t know that K was working a double shift on Friday and Saturday, so he wasn’t able to get back to us as quickly as he normally does. M was having a fit – really agitated that he hadn’t heard from K. This is part of his disease at work – he gets focused on something and can’t/won’t let it go.
I suggested that M give K a call, but he didn’t get an answer. After an hour or so, he couldn’t stand it any longer and drove to K’s house. He learned that K was working and that his spreader was NOT there. But he borrowed K’s spreader and came home to put the weed & feed out on the yard.
When I heard what happened, I asked M if he had looked in his storage shed in the back yard for his own spreader. Turns out the answer was “no” and when he did look in the shed – lo and behold, there was the spreader, all along. Fortunately, we were able to return K’s spreader to him when he came for dinner Sunday night.
When I got home from work last night, M said he was getting a headache, but hadn’t taken anything for it. Pollen has been overwhelming in our area and a huge thunderstorm had blown up during the afternoon, so it wasn’t a surprise. He took some Ibuprofen and Sudafed and was better within the hour.
This morning, when it was time to get up, he said he had another headache and couldn’t get up for work. I got him more medicine and a Coke and he went back to sleep, but didn’t call in. When I left for work, he wanted me to call in to his job for him. I was on my way out the door, so I handed him his phone and said he could take care of it. There may be a day – soon – when I’ll have to do these things for him, but that day isn’t here yet.
M and I had a really good evening together last night. Baseball is back – so we enjoyed watching the Braves on TV again. We had enjoyable conversations and a good dinner. We put together the list of things he needs to do every evening to make sure he is ready for work the next morning and I went to bed feeling really good about the entire day.
This morning, as he was getting his things together for work, he got his lunchbox out of the pantry. Suddenly on the counter, he had his turkey sandwich sitting there, but I hadn’t seen him get it out of the refrigerator. I started not to say anything, but I had to ask – where did your sandwich come from?
It had been in his lunch box overnight. When he made his sandwich the night before, he put it in his lunchbox and put the lunchbox in the pantry – rather than putting the sandwich in the refrigerator overnight. I wouldn’t have eaten it, but he wasn’t worried about it.
It should be a good weekend. We’ll go to the butcher shop and try to get the Keto diet kick started again. M is ready to get some yard work started, which will be nice . . . and a good change from sitting in front of the TV all weekend. Hope the weather will cooperate!
