fading...............

The images are fading – the sounds too – like trying to remember your favorite clip from your favorite movie after not seeing it for 30 years.

I can still recall the images of that day… Glenn on the bathroom floor, being placed in the ambulance, and then the nurse in the ER gently pumping the blue balloon so he could breathe, to keep the blood and oxygen flowing,  to keep him alive, sort of.  And then again at the next hospital – he’s only sleeping, right? Except for all the artificial breathing apparatus…

And then in the casket…that’s not the man I spent 40 years of my life with….. I don’t know who that is… and I turn away. I. can't. look.

Yes, the images and the sounds are still there … but fading… is this supposed to happen? I suppose.  I guess this is what they call time healing?

Maybe.

 But this is also Holy Week in our Christo/Luther tradition…. With all the requisite vocabulary of death and dying and resurrection and curtains torn in two – and darkness covering the land and breathing his last……………

I wasn’t there when he breathed his last - someone was – but not me. Maybe it was the 2 Mary’s and one other – I don’t know.

It’s probably just as well…I’m not sure how I would have handled it…

But it doesn’t matter now …

Fading Memories by Unkopierbar on Devian Art

The images and sounds are fading – as are many memories of our life together….

And I wonder did I dream all of this?  Will I wake up somewhere in another dimension?

So when the memories that I have are faded beyond recognition – what do I have left? Comforting new ones that haven’t been made yet?

And so I wonder…. As I guess we all do at this time of year. Resurrection?  Eternal Life?  What’s it all about, Alfie?

My dilemma is that I have no f**king clue.

Tomorrow is Easter – the high point of our Christian faith – all about Lambs, not bunnies… New Life & Promises & Hope & Resurrection & ……….what? At least today…now…this moment… even though the sun is shining and the tulips are poking their little green ears out of the cold earth…I’m not feeling the love. Or the hope – or the promise.

The images and the sounds are fading… the only hope that I do have is that they don’t fade completely – because it’s all I have  - but it is not enough.   Right now – today – there is nothing that is ‘enough’.
Amen 

keys

One upon a time, a long long time ago, I used to feel like an adult. Why? You might ask – because I had keys.   Keys to my apartment, keys to my car – keys made me feel like an adult – why? I don’t know, it just seemed like something adults had – and needed.

Ever since then I have always had keys – even keys to my workplace – keys to the lock box at the bank, keys to the cable that kept my bike secure – keys. I now have keys to the church where I serve – and 2 sets of keys to bikes in the garage… one is mine – and one is his. Keys. There are keys somewhere for the bike rack and locking cable, but I don’t know where they are – he hid them somewhere.

I had the key to Glenn’s heart – and he mine.

And yet there are times when I freak out because I may not have the right one – like today- I took his car in for service – and got a loaner that I wasn’t expecting. So how do I get into the garage without keys? Especially the digital kind.  Fortunately I had keys – all of them.

But I don’t feel like an adult – even with all of my keys.

Nope – not even close.

I walked to the end of the driveway to put trash in the can – for pick up tomorrow – and I look at this house that is now all mine – and I think…  this house belongs to an adult – how can I be an adult all by myself? Isn’t this a two-person kinda thing?

It’s tax time and so I have financial decisions to make – not my strong suite – this is what adults do…caretaking of the property and house – it’s what adults do… self care – it’s what adults do – staying in touch with family – it’s what adults do.  Take a risk – take a trip – it’s what adults do – but I don’t have the keys - or do I?

At my almost advance age – I should, ( there go the ‘shoulds’) I ‘should’ feel like a grownup – but I don’t.  I feel like that nerdy kid down the street that is out of touch with whatever the ‘norm’ is. I feel like I live in another universe – not the adult one that my age would suggest – but something foreign.

I can’t be the first to feel this way -  I’m not the first to have a husband/partner died unexpectedly… not the last either.

But no one talks about these things – and why not? Why is this so hard? Are others  not feeling like adults, but for maybe a myriad of other reasons?

Aren’t we ‘supposed to’ be more adult like as we grow older, wiser, compassionate, merciful, tolerant, wiser? Not just to others, but to ourselves as well? Isn’t wise synonymous with adult? Maye not.

Adulting -  I’m not sure I can do this - but then I don’t have much choice do I?

Do others have the keys that I don’t?  Keys – like those plastic jingly things that babies chew on?

Keys -  those magical mysterious things that unlock adulthood? Where are mine? And do I even want them?

Sunday Resurrection..

It’s been one of those days. The pastors’ message at worship this morning – resurrection is now - Jesus said so – and I believe -  most of the time.

But it brought tears to my eyes – a solid lump where my heart should be………..

So … I stuffed my feelings - made pleasantries with the people – and came home.

And then there was Hunter.

“Hey Human …”
“yes, Hunter?”
“I know it is supposed to be warm today……”
“how do you know that?”
“it doesn’t matter…I just know … its’ what I do…”
“ok – so?”
“well, it seems to me that a walk in the park is a really good idea… it’s been quite awhile, you know…….”
“… well, as usual, you are right…….., so – “ok,  let’s get it together and we’ll go.”

And so after many minutes – gathering together is like corralling cats, we are ready…. Water and bowl, leash, poop bags, sheet to protect the new car seats,  AND a bag of treats to make sure Hunter stays in the back – and not in my lap.

And so we are off.  And of course once we get there Hunter is all over the place – peeing on every tree and rock – zig zaging here and there  - but that’s ok – it’s his sabbath too.

And so – we walk – and eventually then it’s time to go……….

But I’m not ready to go home – too much time indoors already – and really nothing to keep me there……and so I gas up and we head off south and west – where ever the car goes is where we go. Hunter and me.

And so we, I, drive. And he is really being good this time – but of course food helps……..
“Hunter, stay back…”
“ of course I will – with  treats to reward me….”
“ok….here.”

And as I drive, I notice signs of spring……  resurrection, right?

Children riding their bikes, people walking dogs, someone is raking leaves, an eagle gliding on the currents above me, a wet field full of seagulls? Or terns? Certainly sea birds…what are they doing here? Ducks and geese floating aimlessly on the river, and of course – surprise – the pelicans gathered together in what might be mating dances? Maybe. Fields turning green, and a hint of purple where trees are starting to bud out. Convertibles on the road, and motorcycles too.  Sunshine, of course, a lot of it, and I can take off my jacket, and open the window it’s that warm.

You can see this in your minds’ eye - I’m sure - but I can’t help thinking.  This is what WE used to do - a rambling drive on a sunny Sunday traversing the Great River Road in Illinois – going nowhere in particular… and somehow I find myself on a stretch of road I’ve not traveled before - we’ve not been here before - a new experience….

Hunter is quiet – he doesn’t know the difference… but I do. And it is rather unnerving. A new experience indeed. But in retrospect, it felt right.

I’ve been thinking a lot these days about what I should do – how to live this life that is now mime alone…my brain is like a spider web full of tempting delicacies…but either I’m not hungry enough … or I’m afraid that it won’t taste good. But fear/ anxiety sets in…. and I’m not even sure what that’s about. Except that I do. Almost 40 years of being melded with another human being… and now not. Relearning how to live takes time.   F*ck this is hard.

“ But I’m ready for adventure……….” Says Hunter

“well, that’s great Dude, where do you want to go?”

“anywhere, as long as I’m with you……………” ( cue in the smiley face with hearts!)

“Hunter, what a good boy…you are so smart.”

March 15 - The Ides of March

My horoscope today said, in part, ‘…Live your life your way.”  But what if you don’t know what that means?

I don’t know yet what my way is… I’m not Frank Sinatra… and yet I think about this often. But the Holy Spirit, she is silent – or maybe I’m not listening – but I think the former.

free web image

What is ‘my way’ after 38 years of ‘our way’?  This weekend was supposed to be away – a weekend visiting family I haven’t seen and don’t know very well.  And it got cancelled for the 3rd time -  and I wonder about that – but so now what do I do?

 I don’t have to work this weekend – that’s taken care of –so  how do I fill my time with something that is meaningful? And not just busy work? …………….. How do I switch gears and ‘life life my way?’            I. Don’t. Have. A.‘Way’.

I’m still trying to figure that out.

I made a list of things I could do – I looked at the map – maybe I should go somewhere anyway – Hunter has a reservation with Aunt Sandy – but of any of the places within a weekend circumference  I’ve already been to - we’ve already been there. I’m not sure I want to refry the omelet…….I’m not sure I have the emotional stamina to do it anyway.

It’s been 9 months and 3 days. A lifetime and yet a nanosecond. Not so many tears anymore, but a heavy heart, unspeakable sadness, the elephant on my chest still makes it hard to breathe at times.

And  people ask me – ‘so how are you?’  and I’m not sure if they are being polite or really want to know – and so I am polite, ‘I’m fine, doin’ ok…’ even if I am not. Emotional vomit in public is generally not ok.      It’s ok with Hunter cuz he’s not tellin’………

And then there is this – I found a list Glenn had made of the places we would travel to from 2017 til 2023!!………is that what will be my way? Making these trips for him? Taking his ashes with me to the waterways of the world?  He would like that, I’m sure – and I would too, but I’m not sure I can.  But then I’m not sure I can’t, either.

Maybe I must – no matter what.  I certainly wouldn’t be the first.

Several years ago, on our French canal excursion, we met Father George. A Baptist minister from England on this cruise by himself.  He and his late wife had wanted to do this together but didn’t get the chance.  And so he was doing this trip in her memory – by himself - at 80 something.   I can only imagine what must have been going through his mind those 7 days as he wondered canal towns by himself.  I didn’t think of it then as I had no reference. But now I do.  And I’m sorry I wasn’t more aware of what he was going through.   Because now that’s me.

So – Father George – I’m sorry I wasn’t more compassionate…………..I’m a day late and a dollar short – and I’m sorry.  My heart aches for you.

And for me.

267

It’s another one of those days.  Dinner is over and done with and the leftovers put away -  coffee is set up for tomorrow - dishes washed. I turned off  NPR – couldn’t stand any more ‘news’… and so I have Glenn’s Pandora Jazz on the Ipad. It’s one of the few things that he did that I have left.  I’m in the sunroom – working on my needlepoint – and my mind wonders…

And I think about the photo on my dresser – Glenn’s last school picture – I know because his glass case is in his pocket -  he hated to wear them -  never got used to the idea that he needed them - and didn’t wear them for the official school picture.  I see this picture every morning and every night - and all the times in between -  and I always think – this can’t be – it still doesn’t seem possible that he is gone…and I ask him why? But of course there is no answer… at least not one that satisfies me.

I’m not out of touch with reality - I know he’s gone - but it still doesn’t seem real.

I realized awhile ago that I do have a life – not one I’d recommend – or wanted – but a life nonetheless… and it is ok.  Not great – but ok. I have my work – and some volunteer work – and, of course, Hunter Dude. Who, I know, would like more of my attention and walks and play ball and catch and…. Well, you know.

It’s one of those days where I look around me and wonder – where did it all go wrong…. But of course there is no answer for that.  It’s not so much wrong as life rearing it’s ugly head as it often does. 

God never promised me a rose garden………… but it sure would have been nice.  I do like roses.

……………There are a couple of old trees  - evergreens of some sort - cedars I think  -  in the backyard  - their trunks hollowed out from age.  Their gnarly limbs reaching up to the sky - as if to touch something unseen…but at ground level I can see thru them.  Their branches reach up -  skyward - heavenward maybe - both of them. Joyful maybe? Is there joy in being a gnarly old tree?  Or gnarly old human?

And I wonder when they will fall….maybe not in my life time – but maybe tomorrow.. .?

And that’s how I feel sometimes – hollowed out –gnarly -  ready to fall – but no idea when – or if ever…maybe  I’m stronger than I give myself credit for – I’ve made it this far, anyway. But to what end? And why?

Glenn wanted to have them cut down before the disaster of falling onto the house or into the street -  but the tree guy said no - they are not ready. Their roots are firm and secure -  they will be here long after we are gone -  Really?  Maybe.

But we all fall at some point or another……….and no one can predict…

Well, maybe God knows – but God isn’t sayin’………….

It’s been 267 days as of today – in 6 more days 9 months……………… Has it gotten easier? Yes and no……….

 The still of the night – the quiet of the early morning - one pillow on a double bed -the warmth of Hunter snuggled somewhere on the bed or against me. And I wonder – what would we be doing now.  Packing for a trip?  Talking about our respective work? Planning a day trip? Making a real breakfast?  Or going out for one? Tickets to a play? Or just a day at home – hangin’ out together.  All of the above at one time or another……….. but not now – and not. ever. again.

And then the tears. A gift, I’ve been told. When you cry unbidden it is a gift tears.  The Holy Spirit knows when that acknowledgement of emotion is necessary – and maybe it is so.  It is not always a gift I want to open – but I have no choice -  She comes without warning  -  that Wild Goose of a Holy Spirit -  honking Her way through my life without regard  for what I think I want……………..but maybe knowing what I need.

Tears …..