One minute and this Today is over...Midnight.
Anonymous wrote:
The Tears Happen
Endure, grieve and move on.
The only person who is with us
our entire life is ourselves.
Be ALIVE while you are alive.
Can I agree with that sentiment? Yes, on one level, a purely physical one, it's true. From birth to death, the only presence constantly with us is ourselves. (Excluding God, if you believe in God, who is with us before birth, and will be after earthly death.)
However, when you have a significant other, that person has a presence in your life, too. When the person is no longer physically with you, whether due to divorce or death, the person is retained as a presence in your brain, your mental life, sometimes your dream life. That presence never disappears. It may recede for awhile, only to reappear at unexpected moments. When it's from divorce, there is always, like it or not, a chance of seeing one another, or even being together, again. When death is the cleaver separating the physical presence, all opportunities of ever having it on this earth, again, is over. That's it. Final.
When this realization truly is accepted, is that when one either decides to LIVE or to die?
For me, I believe the decision to LIVE came when I realized I might be desirable to another man. No, I don't mean sexually desirable, though that might be part of a healthy relationship. It seems sad and a bit quaint, that my existence might be based upon being needed by another person.
I couldn't see how I was needed or even wanted by anyone else, so thought there was no point in my continued existence. No one in the family needs me since they all have their own significant others who make them feel needed. Not being particularly good or talented in any special way, there didn't seem to be a reason for me to remain.
What came to me was that there might be another out there who felt the same, so actually needs me as I need him...to help him feel alive and wanted as he would me. This is how I decided to take up an idea of actually looking for that person. Just looking had been suggested by a friend who felt there was nothing wrong with starting to think there could be another person who is honest, kind and gentle with loneliness and needs like my own.
For someone who doesn't drink, or go to clubs or belong to social groups and attends small churches, the opportunities to meet someone are limited. Since my friend, after being widowed, had met her significant other through a service focused on seniors, she suggested I might try it to see if I liked the concept.
The online service I chose had an incremental method of introducing people and I wrote a profile about myself. That is one difficult thing to do! After I wrote mine, and saw the profiles of others on the site, I realized I had been about as straight-forward and honest as I could. Yet, many hardly give any information and you just have to guess...or ignore them. What's the point of putting a smidgeon of info on such a site if you want others to know about you enough to decide there's a potential interest?
Of course, my innocence of years of marriage made me open to the schemes of scammers, and I quickly learned a lesson the hard way. However, there is a core of honest men and women out there who truly do want a person with whom to start a friendship, or develop a friendship into a sincere relationship, even with the potential for marriage.
Deciding if this whole idea was something I wanted to pursue took about a month. Because interaction is limited with the free version, I paid for a month of being able to interact with others on the site. From that month, I was able to make contact and start a friendship with two gentlemanly individuals. Even though our introduction was accidental, one has taken a definite, active interest through emails, and now, phone calls. Perhaps we shall meet one of these days if I continue to feel secure in his sincerity, and he in mine.
The other person might have been appropriate, but he has not made strengthening our friendship a priority. That's OK. Each of us has an individual life of family, friends, work and other related obligations. Especially, if the person's loss has been in the more distant past, the person has worked out coping mechanisms in his or her own society or community. Making time to form a completely new relationship is not a simple matter.
The decision to try this method of meeting potential friends, and I use the term "friend" as it should be, not euphemistically as a sexual partner, has been difficult. At first I was concerned that it might be seen as somehow disloyal to my husband or his memory. My commitment to him was complete and total. Perhaps that's why his loss has been so incredibly devastating. His photo sits beside my computer and is on its screen saver. I love seeing his whimsical smile reflected there. That forever presence of my closest connection to anyone will never disappear. It is no longer in the very forefront of my mind at every moment of every day as it was. If he were here to discuss this, I hope that he would see my love is no less for him. No matter where/when, in the future, he will be my best earthly friend, never forgotten.
So, now, though I know many more tears will be shed for that man of my life who defies a complete definition as to who he was to me, it's time for me to think of Today, each and every day that comes for me, no matter how many or how few, to LIVE, again, with purpose and meaning. He would have wanted me to live that kind of life.
Now it is 1:00 a.m. of a new Today!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
Today--Practical thoughts, February 10, 2012
Well, here I am at another Today when I just finished my Today from yesterday.
All night, I sought to gain another tax refund from a previous year, only to find it was done properly back then. There is satisfaction in that, though some extra funds would have been exceedingly welcome.
Today, I am thinking in a practical, objective fashion. These times must come so that final arrangements are considered and decided. My husband's and step-son's remains were both cremated. The son's cremains were interred at the "Family" cemetery, called thus because a large number of my husband's relatives are buried or memorialized there. They were a respected farming family with much community responsibility and connections. When my step-son passed away a few years ago, my husband wanted his cremains buried near family, and had hoped for a family section representing our part of his family. We had not accomplished that before my husband's passing.
No life insurance and no financial planning. This state of affairs has prevented a cemetery plot as was desired by my husband--having his immediate family's set of plots in the "Family" cemetery--where Father and Son could have their earthly remains at rest side-by-side, as well as other family members who might want the same. We can put my husband's cremains in the same grave site as his son's, since two sets of cremains may be buried in one plot. Even putting two sets in one cremains' vault is allowed at this cemetery. However, there would not be enough room to have another plot for me or for the family headstone to be erected. Of course, we learned after using a cremains vault that the Family cemetery did not require one as we were told by the funeral home.
It does pay to educate oneself in advance about all of the details of settling ones remains whether or not they are cremated. Funeral directors are not required to give full disclosure about all of the options a family has. The Family cemetery sextant has been as helpful as a funeral director in many aspects. Maybe, by physical Spring, I could save enough to buy the double plot or more, then we could have the son disinterred and both father and son interred at the same time into a new cemetery location for the family. Some of my husband's cremains will be interred at a National Cemetery to honor his service, but he wanted to also have his remains with the majority of his family, so that's why the need to purchase. This decision is thanks to one of my brothers for his sensible thoughts when I was in a quandary about my husband's unsettled wishes about either the National Cemetery or the family one. Doing both is something we can do to honor both his wishes.
For those who desire cremation, BioGift is a medical research supplier who works with individuals and families to allow a person's remains to be donated for medical research. BioGift arranges to have the body transported from place of death, whether home or hospital, without cost, to be flown to their medical facility in Oregon. After BioGift has arranged for the remains to be used for research as needed, the unused remains are cremated and returned within a couple of weeks to the family to do with as they wish. The ONLY cost to the family is the cost of death certificates. All other expenses are paid by BioGift until the family receives the cremains. After that, how and where the family keeps or inters the cremains is the family's responsibility. There are some rules about whether or not a person's body will be acceptable to BioGift, but most peoples' remains are able to be accepted.
Donating is a great gift in the service of humanity. To offer one's body for medical research may help many others to have better lives. The financial benefits simply make it easier to make the decision, one which both my husband and I decided to do. This also relieves the family of many concerns. Without the need to rush decisions, a memorial service can happen at any time when the family is able to come together.
Also, keep in mind that any sturdy receptacle can be used if the family wishes to bury or keep the cremains. It does not need to be something labeled specifically for cremains. Those containers are quite expensive from a funeral home or site online. Something with a sealable top is recommended, even though the cremains are sealed, but no sense tempting any future casual prankster if it is sitting on the mantle. Of course, the family may decide to purchase a very expensive container or urn, but it isn't necessary. The receptacle can be expensive or not, all according to the needs or desires of the individual or family. If the cremains will be cast into nature, then a nice keepsake container could be used to transport the cremains to the site, then saved for the family's sake after the cremains are dispersed.
Some individuals make their final plans and desires known explicitly in detail. Others leave it for the family to decide or simply don't have time to make the decisions they might like. In that case, a person's general demeanor and lifestyle should dictate or suggest final disposition. Memorial services, grave-sites and final dispositions are for the living, so anything that reminds them of their loved one's good traits will help with grief.
Today may bring more practical thoughts as it wears through the hours.
All night, I sought to gain another tax refund from a previous year, only to find it was done properly back then. There is satisfaction in that, though some extra funds would have been exceedingly welcome.
Today, I am thinking in a practical, objective fashion. These times must come so that final arrangements are considered and decided. My husband's and step-son's remains were both cremated. The son's cremains were interred at the "Family" cemetery, called thus because a large number of my husband's relatives are buried or memorialized there. They were a respected farming family with much community responsibility and connections. When my step-son passed away a few years ago, my husband wanted his cremains buried near family, and had hoped for a family section representing our part of his family. We had not accomplished that before my husband's passing.
No life insurance and no financial planning. This state of affairs has prevented a cemetery plot as was desired by my husband--having his immediate family's set of plots in the "Family" cemetery--where Father and Son could have their earthly remains at rest side-by-side, as well as other family members who might want the same. We can put my husband's cremains in the same grave site as his son's, since two sets of cremains may be buried in one plot. Even putting two sets in one cremains' vault is allowed at this cemetery. However, there would not be enough room to have another plot for me or for the family headstone to be erected. Of course, we learned after using a cremains vault that the Family cemetery did not require one as we were told by the funeral home.
It does pay to educate oneself in advance about all of the details of settling ones remains whether or not they are cremated. Funeral directors are not required to give full disclosure about all of the options a family has. The Family cemetery sextant has been as helpful as a funeral director in many aspects. Maybe, by physical Spring, I could save enough to buy the double plot or more, then we could have the son disinterred and both father and son interred at the same time into a new cemetery location for the family. Some of my husband's cremains will be interred at a National Cemetery to honor his service, but he wanted to also have his remains with the majority of his family, so that's why the need to purchase. This decision is thanks to one of my brothers for his sensible thoughts when I was in a quandary about my husband's unsettled wishes about either the National Cemetery or the family one. Doing both is something we can do to honor both his wishes.
For those who desire cremation, BioGift is a medical research supplier who works with individuals and families to allow a person's remains to be donated for medical research. BioGift arranges to have the body transported from place of death, whether home or hospital, without cost, to be flown to their medical facility in Oregon. After BioGift has arranged for the remains to be used for research as needed, the unused remains are cremated and returned within a couple of weeks to the family to do with as they wish. The ONLY cost to the family is the cost of death certificates. All other expenses are paid by BioGift until the family receives the cremains. After that, how and where the family keeps or inters the cremains is the family's responsibility. There are some rules about whether or not a person's body will be acceptable to BioGift, but most peoples' remains are able to be accepted.
Donating is a great gift in the service of humanity. To offer one's body for medical research may help many others to have better lives. The financial benefits simply make it easier to make the decision, one which both my husband and I decided to do. This also relieves the family of many concerns. Without the need to rush decisions, a memorial service can happen at any time when the family is able to come together.
Also, keep in mind that any sturdy receptacle can be used if the family wishes to bury or keep the cremains. It does not need to be something labeled specifically for cremains. Those containers are quite expensive from a funeral home or site online. Something with a sealable top is recommended, even though the cremains are sealed, but no sense tempting any future casual prankster if it is sitting on the mantle. Of course, the family may decide to purchase a very expensive container or urn, but it isn't necessary. The receptacle can be expensive or not, all according to the needs or desires of the individual or family. If the cremains will be cast into nature, then a nice keepsake container could be used to transport the cremains to the site, then saved for the family's sake after the cremains are dispersed.
Some individuals make their final plans and desires known explicitly in detail. Others leave it for the family to decide or simply don't have time to make the decisions they might like. In that case, a person's general demeanor and lifestyle should dictate or suggest final disposition. Memorial services, grave-sites and final dispositions are for the living, so anything that reminds them of their loved one's good traits will help with grief.
Today may bring more practical thoughts as it wears through the hours.
Monday, February 6, 2012
February 6--Our grandson's birthday, One day after Jack's
At first, this blog was to be daily, I wish I had done just that, but here is this today, weeks since my last comments. Days still seem to be just going past me, but each day itself has some small memorable moments and I'm not always concentrating on the loss.
Today, our grandson who is so far from me, is 23 years old! Jack and I were always so proud of all our grandchildren, and I'm sure he would have loved to wish our grandson a Happy Birthday. Our grandson has become a remarkable young man and we both have missed being able to be closer to him.
Jack would have been 79 yesterday. Yes, Super Bowl Sunday--we would have had a good time with that connection had he made it til then. He would likely have rooted for the Patriots, but having a Manning win with the Giants would have made him happy, too. With his heart as bad as it was, he probably couldn't have watched the Big Game, and that would have saddened and exasperated him. Too much excitement, and that didn't take a lot to accomplish, caused him to have angina. Before he passed away, even reading some books was too much for him. It's true, quality of life does make a huge difference in accepting the loss of a loved one. Letting go is so hard, but looking back to see the struggles and pain a loved experienced, makes the loss slightly more acceptable.
Jack wasn't much of a cake-eater, but preferred pies and cookies. His greatest enjoyment of food was custard, so almost all of his birthdays included a large custard baked just for him. My day would have included baking that custard for him and enjoying watching as he ate the whole desert! I used to say all those eggs at one time certainly wasn't going to help his heart, to which he responded, "At least I'll die happy and satisfied!"
Along with the birthdays, this weekend has been incredibly memorable! Our eldest granddaughter became engaged on Friday! We are welcoming an overall accomplished young man to our family. What a thrill for us all! Then our youngest granddaughter, a university student, on the same day, was given the job she had been seeking over a year. Another thrill for the family! It seemed God's way of easing the pain of memories coming on Sunday. The eldest and her fiance held a Super Bowl party and being included in their revelry, along with my preparations of the cake, helped to keep my emotions at bay. It was enjoyable to be with the group.
So many experiences not recorded! However, I refuse to feel guilty about not doing so and keeping up the blog. This blog is primarily for me to share experiences that might help another with a similar life situation. NOT blogging is as much a part of that as blogging is. In this situation, I believe it's another symptom of the day-to-day struggle not to accept what's happened. In one way, blogging about Jack's passing reminds me of the anguish of the moment and desolate feelings since. Yet, blogging also allows a way to focus on how, even in grief, the days are survivable, and may actually become more than that.
Right now, I am still struggling with staying up all night. It still isn't obvious to me why I do that since it's counter-intuitive and counter-productive to do so. It maybe that it's too hard to go to bed alone. At least the past few days, I have the recollection of dreaming, and dreaming dreams that included Jack. That's probably where "one day at a time" comes into play.
In my previous blogs, the loneliness was a focus. Some days now, the loneliness doesn't seem to be as pervasive. I am lonely, not just for people, but for a special person in my life. Someone with whom I can share my thinking and not be judged for it and for whom I can do the same. Someone who shares the small things in life. There's nothing like making a cup of tea, a good meal, a treasured desert for a special person. Their pleasure in life becomes a large part of your own.
It is so much more enjoyable to see a movie, a moonlit night, star-filled heavens looking for aurora, a glorious sunrise or sunset, scenes at the lake or in the mountains, lighthouses, a quaint town, or take a day trip with a special person. Sharing a meal out, or just a cup of coffee at the doughnut shop, or shopping at the grocery store gives a perspective through someone else's eyes that is shared through attitudes, looks, comments and discussions. "Which of this broccoli looks best to you? None! Yuck! You know I hate green things!" would be a teasing conversation that brings you closer to one another. Everyday pleasures of spontaneous conversations about hopes or plans for the house and yard, or places or people to see are so missed.
The other day, I was in a large department store looking at Valentine's gifts to share with my children and grandchildren when I began to notice all of the cards for spouses. I absolutely had no idea the impact that simple activity would have on me. Suddenly, that anguish of Jack being gone for this lifetime flooded into my very core, welling up from that pit. If it weren't for those walls God has built, I would have fallen into it completely right there in the store. It was all I could do to control myself enough to get out of the store. That's the most difficult thing to handle. When that incredible feeling of loss hits suddenly, unexpectedly, especially if you are in a public place or with someone who doesn't realize why you have become so distraught, it is pure emotion, and very little, if any, logic can stop it.
Another day, I found myself sitting at the computer, then glancing at Jack's photo sitting by the keyboard, and broke out into sobs of "why did you leave me?" How logical is that? The man did all he could to stay alive for as long as possible, he didn't choose to leave, he just couldn't make it any longer. I've heard that anger can be a part of grief, that the survivor may place blame on the lost one for leaving, but I believe my question was larger than that. It seemed to encompass questions we all ultimately want to know: Why does a person live? Why does a person have to die? Why do things have to change so drastically? We ask, even though we know that is the way of life. Life doesn't exist without change. That's the logical thinking talking.
It's been said that feelings can't be perfectly defined. We can talk of them, around them, try to describe them, but we can't define them well enough to be able to have an antidote when needed. We are even able to "identify" with another who is having similar feelings/emotions, but every emotion is idiosyncratic to the individual, so grief is as separate as it is shared. All who have it, experience it differently but in a shared community of grievers.
In some ways, we can help one another to go to the next step of living. Recently, a new acquaintance gave this quote..."Life is for the living. Memories are forever." He said he had gotten over "the life isn't fair thing but do know there is no such thing as closure" for those left after a death. It has been a number of years since his young wife passed, and even though his comment, his life seems to be going forward with new interests. Maybe we don't ever get "closure." Maybe, from my today's perspective (not sure what tomorrow will bring), we will be able to find a place in our hearts and minds to put all the anguish and pain in a space with a door we can open if needed, but keep closed, possibly eventually locked, and still keep our memories available.
Tomorrow's another today....
Today, our grandson who is so far from me, is 23 years old! Jack and I were always so proud of all our grandchildren, and I'm sure he would have loved to wish our grandson a Happy Birthday. Our grandson has become a remarkable young man and we both have missed being able to be closer to him.
Jack would have been 79 yesterday. Yes, Super Bowl Sunday--we would have had a good time with that connection had he made it til then. He would likely have rooted for the Patriots, but having a Manning win with the Giants would have made him happy, too. With his heart as bad as it was, he probably couldn't have watched the Big Game, and that would have saddened and exasperated him. Too much excitement, and that didn't take a lot to accomplish, caused him to have angina. Before he passed away, even reading some books was too much for him. It's true, quality of life does make a huge difference in accepting the loss of a loved one. Letting go is so hard, but looking back to see the struggles and pain a loved experienced, makes the loss slightly more acceptable.
Jack wasn't much of a cake-eater, but preferred pies and cookies. His greatest enjoyment of food was custard, so almost all of his birthdays included a large custard baked just for him. My day would have included baking that custard for him and enjoying watching as he ate the whole desert! I used to say all those eggs at one time certainly wasn't going to help his heart, to which he responded, "At least I'll die happy and satisfied!"
Along with the birthdays, this weekend has been incredibly memorable! Our eldest granddaughter became engaged on Friday! We are welcoming an overall accomplished young man to our family. What a thrill for us all! Then our youngest granddaughter, a university student, on the same day, was given the job she had been seeking over a year. Another thrill for the family! It seemed God's way of easing the pain of memories coming on Sunday. The eldest and her fiance held a Super Bowl party and being included in their revelry, along with my preparations of the cake, helped to keep my emotions at bay. It was enjoyable to be with the group.
So many experiences not recorded! However, I refuse to feel guilty about not doing so and keeping up the blog. This blog is primarily for me to share experiences that might help another with a similar life situation. NOT blogging is as much a part of that as blogging is. In this situation, I believe it's another symptom of the day-to-day struggle not to accept what's happened. In one way, blogging about Jack's passing reminds me of the anguish of the moment and desolate feelings since. Yet, blogging also allows a way to focus on how, even in grief, the days are survivable, and may actually become more than that.
Right now, I am still struggling with staying up all night. It still isn't obvious to me why I do that since it's counter-intuitive and counter-productive to do so. It maybe that it's too hard to go to bed alone. At least the past few days, I have the recollection of dreaming, and dreaming dreams that included Jack. That's probably where "one day at a time" comes into play.
In my previous blogs, the loneliness was a focus. Some days now, the loneliness doesn't seem to be as pervasive. I am lonely, not just for people, but for a special person in my life. Someone with whom I can share my thinking and not be judged for it and for whom I can do the same. Someone who shares the small things in life. There's nothing like making a cup of tea, a good meal, a treasured desert for a special person. Their pleasure in life becomes a large part of your own.
It is so much more enjoyable to see a movie, a moonlit night, star-filled heavens looking for aurora, a glorious sunrise or sunset, scenes at the lake or in the mountains, lighthouses, a quaint town, or take a day trip with a special person. Sharing a meal out, or just a cup of coffee at the doughnut shop, or shopping at the grocery store gives a perspective through someone else's eyes that is shared through attitudes, looks, comments and discussions. "Which of this broccoli looks best to you? None! Yuck! You know I hate green things!" would be a teasing conversation that brings you closer to one another. Everyday pleasures of spontaneous conversations about hopes or plans for the house and yard, or places or people to see are so missed.
The other day, I was in a large department store looking at Valentine's gifts to share with my children and grandchildren when I began to notice all of the cards for spouses. I absolutely had no idea the impact that simple activity would have on me. Suddenly, that anguish of Jack being gone for this lifetime flooded into my very core, welling up from that pit. If it weren't for those walls God has built, I would have fallen into it completely right there in the store. It was all I could do to control myself enough to get out of the store. That's the most difficult thing to handle. When that incredible feeling of loss hits suddenly, unexpectedly, especially if you are in a public place or with someone who doesn't realize why you have become so distraught, it is pure emotion, and very little, if any, logic can stop it.
Another day, I found myself sitting at the computer, then glancing at Jack's photo sitting by the keyboard, and broke out into sobs of "why did you leave me?" How logical is that? The man did all he could to stay alive for as long as possible, he didn't choose to leave, he just couldn't make it any longer. I've heard that anger can be a part of grief, that the survivor may place blame on the lost one for leaving, but I believe my question was larger than that. It seemed to encompass questions we all ultimately want to know: Why does a person live? Why does a person have to die? Why do things have to change so drastically? We ask, even though we know that is the way of life. Life doesn't exist without change. That's the logical thinking talking.
It's been said that feelings can't be perfectly defined. We can talk of them, around them, try to describe them, but we can't define them well enough to be able to have an antidote when needed. We are even able to "identify" with another who is having similar feelings/emotions, but every emotion is idiosyncratic to the individual, so grief is as separate as it is shared. All who have it, experience it differently but in a shared community of grievers.
In some ways, we can help one another to go to the next step of living. Recently, a new acquaintance gave this quote..."Life is for the living. Memories are forever." He said he had gotten over "the life isn't fair thing but do know there is no such thing as closure" for those left after a death. It has been a number of years since his young wife passed, and even though his comment, his life seems to be going forward with new interests. Maybe we don't ever get "closure." Maybe, from my today's perspective (not sure what tomorrow will bring), we will be able to find a place in our hearts and minds to put all the anguish and pain in a space with a door we can open if needed, but keep closed, possibly eventually locked, and still keep our memories available.
Tomorrow's another today....
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Another Slump
Here I am, still up at 6:12 a.m. If I was just awakening to a new day, my "today," then I'd feel happy to do it. However, having stayed up all night and all night Tuesday night brings me to thinking I might be having a slump or regression. There have been a few more moments of tears, but then, I'm not rested. WHAT is it that keeps me awake when I know I am tired enough to sleep? WHY do I hesitate to put my body to bed when I know if I only would, sleep would quickly come? So much more is accomplished during the daylight hours, even when those hours are dim from cloud cover.
I need to allow God to take the concerns of my future into His hands every moment. Knowing that and desiring it don't seem to prevent my thinking and over-thinking about what to do. Jack doesn't know what's happening, he can't be offended by my thoughts or possible plans, yet, I have the sensation I need to consider his feelings. There's nothing that he wouldn't want me to do if it would please me.
*(For those who might be reading this blog, the next narrative might be disturbing as I describe Jack's death and disposition of his body. Please, be forewarned that it could be upsetting to some.)
Two more days and it will have been 5 months ago that he took that last breath with his feet still on the floor. He had refused to put his feet onto the bed and under the covers right up to the last moment, even though he was cold. I had wrapped blankets around his legs instead. A few hours before he died, Jack said he was "going somewhere" and for a short time, he was afraid from the look on his face, an expression I had never seen on his face. It was as if he was looking into a blackness I couldn't see, an unknown he could see coming. He became agitated, wouldn't take any medication, and thrashed about for a short time--getting on his knees, then sitting, then moving to face whatever he seemed to see or not see, but sense. I tried to help him feel comforted, but it didn't seem to help much until I called the nurse. She suggested making a paste of his meds and rubbing it inside his cheek. After doing that, the idea of music came to mind. If only I had thought of it sooner. For awhile, I sat on the bed holding him, singing his favorite hymn while having him in my arms, then humming another favorite. By then he was relaxed and so pale with cool hands, I knew he was leaving me. I had been denying it before then, not wanting him to leave. Making him comfortable wasn't easy with his feet on the floor, so I piled several pillows to let him comfortably recline against the bed and it's rail, covering him for warmth. Quickly, I started a favorite CD, then sat with him for awhile longer. Finally, I could see the end was very near, so decided to step into the kitchen to call our daughter. Within two minutes, while on the phone with her, I watched him take his last breath and he was gone with some of his most favorite music playing in the room.
Our daughter and I cried aloud that piercing, wrenching sobbing cry of emotional wounds rawly gaping beyond our ken. If hearing is the last to go, I'm sure he heard our cries. That saddens me, for I wanted him to have peace in those last moments. Those few minutes of fierce primal grief expressed the loss of a life never again to be on this earth. How God must have felt when His Son died, even knowing He certainly would be raised again, makes me know He understood our pain.
I called Joan, our hospice nurse, and she arrived about 40 minutes later. While awaiting her arrival, I first made sure Jack was covered with blankets to make him feel as warm as he could for as long as he might be able to feel it. Then I called the most important family members. Next, I chose clothes Jack liked for his body to be covered the way he would have preferred before he was taken. He was a man of dignity, and that needed to be reflected by covering him appropriately. His one unknown last act of dignity was that his body did not release its waste which is so common at death. As we were able to finally place Jack's legs upon the bed, I was surprised his body was still quite warm. Not his arms and legs, but his core--his torso and cheeks, and it made me feel as though he'd been with me, alone, during that span of time until Joan came. As we clothed him with his favorite North Harbor T-shirt and navy cargo slacks along with black socks, then covered him with a sheet and quilt, it felt satisfying to be doing those things for him, not having left it to a funeral director to handle. The experience was so intimate, so fulfilling, so RIGHT. We could stroke his head, his hands, talk to him and about him with his being there with us. I could easily have let him lie there for the night if the arrangements hadn't had a need for special care.
It was a couple of hours before the funeral attendants were able come to remove Jack's body. Joan and the two young men were nicely understanding of my crazy wit under the circumstances. My way of handling tension and stress. At first, when they arrived, I didn't want to have anything else to do with Jack's body. By then, I had accepted it was just a shell. Yet, when they started to leave, I could not resist the need to say one more goodbye--a touch, a kiss on the forehead. Then, he was gone forever from my side. The rest of the night I gathered his things from the living room to make ready to dispose of them. I was tidying and put things in order. It was a work to make some control over a situation for which there is no control.
Everything that happened after that night is wrapped in fog, and the following couple of weeks a blur of numbness. Everyone except one granddaughter left in a week, one other granddaughter lives nearby. In a way, though it was wonderful to have their love and support, them leaving gave some relief from the need to talk and interact, in other ways it made the loss even greater. After the one granddaughter who lives at home returned to school, there was an emptiness so complete it's beyond my ability to describe.
After most of 45 years together, nearly 43 years of marriage of mostly constant companionship, there was nothing. There was existence, nothing more, on some other plane, no matter how kind others were, and how well I interacted with them, nothing mattered. That crater within was so completely void of anything that my very thoughts were sucked into it never to be found or repeated. Since then, I have existed in a void that is ever, but miserly, growing smaller and life is starting to happen again.
Yes, we had the Memorial Service in Tennessee, but even though I went through some of the motions, I really wasn't ready to be involved. More time, waiting longer, maybe until this year's spring, would have been better, but others may have needed a faster closure, yet I now believe I still wasn't ready for it.
There is so much of Jack here still! I'm not ready to close the door on our life together--never completely will be, even though I'm lonely enough to begin considering at least a friendship with another man. There is something right about having the other gender's perspective in life. I've been reminded that I am "still" young. That's funny to me, after all, I am a great-grandmother, admittedly younger than normal, but generationally so. Many men in my age bracket, seem to want beautiful young-looking, trim, healthy women when they are aged, considerably overweight and unhealthy themselves! What a double-standard! Jack would have freely admitted this as his opinion of most men was realistic. Now I am praying to God for leadership, wisdom and discernment as I start to consider a possible future that might include another man. It's still better to give major decisions enough time, so my 3 months waiting period, long ago turned into a year for making any major changes to my life.
Today--one more day of "one day at a time...."
I need to allow God to take the concerns of my future into His hands every moment. Knowing that and desiring it don't seem to prevent my thinking and over-thinking about what to do. Jack doesn't know what's happening, he can't be offended by my thoughts or possible plans, yet, I have the sensation I need to consider his feelings. There's nothing that he wouldn't want me to do if it would please me.
*(For those who might be reading this blog, the next narrative might be disturbing as I describe Jack's death and disposition of his body. Please, be forewarned that it could be upsetting to some.)
Two more days and it will have been 5 months ago that he took that last breath with his feet still on the floor. He had refused to put his feet onto the bed and under the covers right up to the last moment, even though he was cold. I had wrapped blankets around his legs instead. A few hours before he died, Jack said he was "going somewhere" and for a short time, he was afraid from the look on his face, an expression I had never seen on his face. It was as if he was looking into a blackness I couldn't see, an unknown he could see coming. He became agitated, wouldn't take any medication, and thrashed about for a short time--getting on his knees, then sitting, then moving to face whatever he seemed to see or not see, but sense. I tried to help him feel comforted, but it didn't seem to help much until I called the nurse. She suggested making a paste of his meds and rubbing it inside his cheek. After doing that, the idea of music came to mind. If only I had thought of it sooner. For awhile, I sat on the bed holding him, singing his favorite hymn while having him in my arms, then humming another favorite. By then he was relaxed and so pale with cool hands, I knew he was leaving me. I had been denying it before then, not wanting him to leave. Making him comfortable wasn't easy with his feet on the floor, so I piled several pillows to let him comfortably recline against the bed and it's rail, covering him for warmth. Quickly, I started a favorite CD, then sat with him for awhile longer. Finally, I could see the end was very near, so decided to step into the kitchen to call our daughter. Within two minutes, while on the phone with her, I watched him take his last breath and he was gone with some of his most favorite music playing in the room.
Our daughter and I cried aloud that piercing, wrenching sobbing cry of emotional wounds rawly gaping beyond our ken. If hearing is the last to go, I'm sure he heard our cries. That saddens me, for I wanted him to have peace in those last moments. Those few minutes of fierce primal grief expressed the loss of a life never again to be on this earth. How God must have felt when His Son died, even knowing He certainly would be raised again, makes me know He understood our pain.
I called Joan, our hospice nurse, and she arrived about 40 minutes later. While awaiting her arrival, I first made sure Jack was covered with blankets to make him feel as warm as he could for as long as he might be able to feel it. Then I called the most important family members. Next, I chose clothes Jack liked for his body to be covered the way he would have preferred before he was taken. He was a man of dignity, and that needed to be reflected by covering him appropriately. His one unknown last act of dignity was that his body did not release its waste which is so common at death. As we were able to finally place Jack's legs upon the bed, I was surprised his body was still quite warm. Not his arms and legs, but his core--his torso and cheeks, and it made me feel as though he'd been with me, alone, during that span of time until Joan came. As we clothed him with his favorite North Harbor T-shirt and navy cargo slacks along with black socks, then covered him with a sheet and quilt, it felt satisfying to be doing those things for him, not having left it to a funeral director to handle. The experience was so intimate, so fulfilling, so RIGHT. We could stroke his head, his hands, talk to him and about him with his being there with us. I could easily have let him lie there for the night if the arrangements hadn't had a need for special care.
It was a couple of hours before the funeral attendants were able come to remove Jack's body. Joan and the two young men were nicely understanding of my crazy wit under the circumstances. My way of handling tension and stress. At first, when they arrived, I didn't want to have anything else to do with Jack's body. By then, I had accepted it was just a shell. Yet, when they started to leave, I could not resist the need to say one more goodbye--a touch, a kiss on the forehead. Then, he was gone forever from my side. The rest of the night I gathered his things from the living room to make ready to dispose of them. I was tidying and put things in order. It was a work to make some control over a situation for which there is no control.
Everything that happened after that night is wrapped in fog, and the following couple of weeks a blur of numbness. Everyone except one granddaughter left in a week, one other granddaughter lives nearby. In a way, though it was wonderful to have their love and support, them leaving gave some relief from the need to talk and interact, in other ways it made the loss even greater. After the one granddaughter who lives at home returned to school, there was an emptiness so complete it's beyond my ability to describe.
After most of 45 years together, nearly 43 years of marriage of mostly constant companionship, there was nothing. There was existence, nothing more, on some other plane, no matter how kind others were, and how well I interacted with them, nothing mattered. That crater within was so completely void of anything that my very thoughts were sucked into it never to be found or repeated. Since then, I have existed in a void that is ever, but miserly, growing smaller and life is starting to happen again.
Yes, we had the Memorial Service in Tennessee, but even though I went through some of the motions, I really wasn't ready to be involved. More time, waiting longer, maybe until this year's spring, would have been better, but others may have needed a faster closure, yet I now believe I still wasn't ready for it.
There is so much of Jack here still! I'm not ready to close the door on our life together--never completely will be, even though I'm lonely enough to begin considering at least a friendship with another man. There is something right about having the other gender's perspective in life. I've been reminded that I am "still" young. That's funny to me, after all, I am a great-grandmother, admittedly younger than normal, but generationally so. Many men in my age bracket, seem to want beautiful young-looking, trim, healthy women when they are aged, considerably overweight and unhealthy themselves! What a double-standard! Jack would have freely admitted this as his opinion of most men was realistic. Now I am praying to God for leadership, wisdom and discernment as I start to consider a possible future that might include another man. It's still better to give major decisions enough time, so my 3 months waiting period, long ago turned into a year for making any major changes to my life.
Today--one more day of "one day at a time...."
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Poem/Prayer for those in Pain from Loss
- Today I lifted up your name Before the Lord in prayer. I asked Him to supply your needs, And keep you in His care. I pled with Him to make you well, And take away your pain; To chase away your sorrows, as The sunshine chases rain. Because I know He holds you in The hollow of His hand, I prayed that you would know His peace, And have the strength to stand. If you should be discouraged, and Feel moored in deep despair, Please know I dearly love you, and Remember you in prayer. @ 2003 Betty Jo Mings
Hope, Yet Pain of Loneliness
Even with all of this hope, I am incredibly lonely, not just for anyone, but for Jack. I wonder if I can EVER have that kind of love for another. There's a temptation to try to fill the void with someone.
Would it be fair to another man to have him follow the love of one's life? It seems it would be tempting to compare one to the other. After a lifetime of being together and sharing the intimate connections of building a life together: of developing trust; of children; of work; of good and bad experiences; large and small struggles; illnesses; brushes with death; days to months of recovery; grasping an understanding of internal struggles and haunts of childhood troubles; dreams fulfilled or not; accomplishments; learning each others preferences of daily living and relationships; gathering friends of both; all of the countless and nameless day-to-day aspects of life, can another person bring a loving trusting enjoyable relationship this late in life?
If it comes, Tomorrow's another day--One Day at a Time....
Would it be fair to another man to have him follow the love of one's life? It seems it would be tempting to compare one to the other. After a lifetime of being together and sharing the intimate connections of building a life together: of developing trust; of children; of work; of good and bad experiences; large and small struggles; illnesses; brushes with death; days to months of recovery; grasping an understanding of internal struggles and haunts of childhood troubles; dreams fulfilled or not; accomplishments; learning each others preferences of daily living and relationships; gathering friends of both; all of the countless and nameless day-to-day aspects of life, can another person bring a loving trusting enjoyable relationship this late in life?
If it comes, Tomorrow's another day--One Day at a Time....
New Years Day 2012
01-01-2012 The first day of a New Year. Just spent my first New Year's Eve alone--in my entire life. Wondering if this is an End and New Beginning?
It's been only a little less than 5 months, but seems a lifetime and a minute all in one. Einstein WAS/IS correct--time is relative. A moment of pain seems forever--a moment of pleasure even shorter.
Yesterday, a family get-together during the afternoon helped to keep my mind from the inevitable New Year's Eve--the first one alone. Somehow I feel as if that should feel more significant, as if saying it will bring more feelings than it has, like I should be sad or depressed about it. It hasn't been that way at all! A few hours of the evening, I spent shopping around a store, buying only toothpaste and a small package of paper plates, but having the opportunity to return smiles, greetings and comments. I was wearing a flashing lighted necklace given by grandchildren, so received smiles and comments on it. Even accused of having a "glowing personality!"
God has richly blessed me with a naturally happy demeanor. Sadly, and unfortunately, my comments can be misinterpreted as being cynical or sarcastic or critical. Somehow I must correct that. Perhaps my wit is too dry. Then again, maybe my comments are interpreted through the personalities of others, and therefore, not my responsibility as to their interpretation?
But that natural happiness has been an extra blessing through the aftermath of losing Jack. I've been so sad that I wonder how awful--beyond description, as it nearly was for me--it must be for those who normally do not have a happy personality. It's not that I don't see the seriousness of life, it's just that God has gifted me with faith and peace even in my worries and worst times.
Though for a while I despaired of having any kind of bright future after Jack died, there was an underlying foundation of peace that somehow this was all normal and to be expected and that I would come out of it a better, stronger person with greater faith to accept whatever future comes. That doesn't mean there was not pain beyond my imagining...there was...and still is part of each day...but it's getting less difficult to handle.
There is a definite emptiness inside my very core...nothing fills it...but God has shored up the edges so that I can't fall into it. Sometimes I approach it, sometimes I peer over the edge, other times I lean into it, but the walls are growing higher every day...too high to let the emptiness engulf me.
The pain now is blunt, like being hit with something solid, not sharply piercing, and tearing my heart from within me as it once was. Maybe that kind of pain is less difficult to ease or handle than the first weeks of almost unbearably sharp pain. There's a part of me that feels maybe that's why there is an emptiness. My heart was torn asunder, almost literally from my body leaving a monstrous crater behind within me. This is the precipice God has walled so I cannot fall beyond help.
I think there will always be a pit with stone walls within me, but it will eventually be capped as a memorial of beauty and strength and love that only God can give. It won't ooze painful thoughts of regrets unable to be reconciled as He will have forgiven them even though Jack can't give that peace.
Tomorrow...One Day at a Time....
It's been only a little less than 5 months, but seems a lifetime and a minute all in one. Einstein WAS/IS correct--time is relative. A moment of pain seems forever--a moment of pleasure even shorter.
Yesterday, a family get-together during the afternoon helped to keep my mind from the inevitable New Year's Eve--the first one alone. Somehow I feel as if that should feel more significant, as if saying it will bring more feelings than it has, like I should be sad or depressed about it. It hasn't been that way at all! A few hours of the evening, I spent shopping around a store, buying only toothpaste and a small package of paper plates, but having the opportunity to return smiles, greetings and comments. I was wearing a flashing lighted necklace given by grandchildren, so received smiles and comments on it. Even accused of having a "glowing personality!"
God has richly blessed me with a naturally happy demeanor. Sadly, and unfortunately, my comments can be misinterpreted as being cynical or sarcastic or critical. Somehow I must correct that. Perhaps my wit is too dry. Then again, maybe my comments are interpreted through the personalities of others, and therefore, not my responsibility as to their interpretation?
But that natural happiness has been an extra blessing through the aftermath of losing Jack. I've been so sad that I wonder how awful--beyond description, as it nearly was for me--it must be for those who normally do not have a happy personality. It's not that I don't see the seriousness of life, it's just that God has gifted me with faith and peace even in my worries and worst times.
Though for a while I despaired of having any kind of bright future after Jack died, there was an underlying foundation of peace that somehow this was all normal and to be expected and that I would come out of it a better, stronger person with greater faith to accept whatever future comes. That doesn't mean there was not pain beyond my imagining...there was...and still is part of each day...but it's getting less difficult to handle.
There is a definite emptiness inside my very core...nothing fills it...but God has shored up the edges so that I can't fall into it. Sometimes I approach it, sometimes I peer over the edge, other times I lean into it, but the walls are growing higher every day...too high to let the emptiness engulf me.
The pain now is blunt, like being hit with something solid, not sharply piercing, and tearing my heart from within me as it once was. Maybe that kind of pain is less difficult to ease or handle than the first weeks of almost unbearably sharp pain. There's a part of me that feels maybe that's why there is an emptiness. My heart was torn asunder, almost literally from my body leaving a monstrous crater behind within me. This is the precipice God has walled so I cannot fall beyond help.
I think there will always be a pit with stone walls within me, but it will eventually be capped as a memorial of beauty and strength and love that only God can give. It won't ooze painful thoughts of regrets unable to be reconciled as He will have forgiven them even though Jack can't give that peace.
Tomorrow...One Day at a Time....
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