One of the BEST daily emails I subscribe to is called Peaceful Daily.  Thank you Sandy for your daily wisdom, and especially for this story....a reminder to me of all the "shit" that's been shoveled my way.... it doesn't have to bury me, it can be a way up and out.  How are you shaking off the dirt and stepping into your freedom.  It's always a choice!

Peace


One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.



He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw.

With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!

MORAL: Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.

Grieving is funny business



Dec 1981.  L-R Back: Dad, Auntie Shirl, Mom
Middle:  Nam & Mac
Front:  Grampy & Grammy

Over the years, I've worked through the loss of people I dearly love; my dad, 25+ years ago; all of my grandparents; a couple of friends from my youth; and Bill, a little over 7 years ago.  I know definitively that I am resliant.  I don't stay sad for too long.  I always bounce back from loss.  

I've also learned over the years that for me, grief has funny, often peculiar, triggers.  The 1st year after I lost my dad was tough, but I was pretty numb, so milestone days (his birthday, Father's Day, Christmas, and the like) passed with little notice.  I was sad, but not grief stricken.  That came in the 2nd year, and in a big way!  My heart had healed just enough to form an emotional scab.  It didn't take much (a song, a piece of paper, a random comment, really anything!) to rip that baby off and expose the tenderness, unleashing a tsunami of tears. There were times when I was sure that I would never stop crying and that my heart would never, ever mend.  And so it has gone with the other losses in my life.  1st year - numb sadness.  2nd year - horrid, unrelenting grief and tears.  3rd & subesquent years - better, a little at a time.
 
This past summer, I finally completed a search for a primary care physician and had my first appointment with Dr. Alphaeus Wise.  Long story!  As part of the new patient process, I had to list, in one place, my family history.  I'm sure the last time I had to do this was some 30+ years ago, when everyone was still alive!  Good Lord!!!  As I completed the form, I found myself alternating between tears of sadness and joy.  Quite surreal I promise.
 
It was the first time, in a VERY long time that I found myself alone with my personal history; thinking about my family and how much they meant to me, how much of their history I carry, and what characteristics each one gifted me.  My Grammy Jean was "uber" creative and ran a very organized household.  My Grampy was strong, charismatic and stubborn. My grandma Nam was social and demanded good manners.  My grandpa Mac was "chill", quick with a smile and fiercely loyal.  My dad believed the best in everyone and pushed me to be authentic (walk your talk!) way before 'authentic' found its way into our vocabulary.  These qualities and so many more are who I am.
 
So the reflection time in the waiting room brought a torrent of inexplicable tears.  Thank goodness for Kleenex pocket packs! I finished the forms and mopped up most of the sadness. So, imagine my surprise as I start crying, yet again, when my new doc's opening line, after introductions, is "so...you've been through a quite a bit in your life!"  Not the suave first impression I would have hoped for! 

And so it went; sniffles, tears and laughter as we went thorugh my personal and family history.  Lucky me...Dr. Wise is just that, and found a way to turn the conversation around so I could find my way back to my sunny self. 

I share this in the hope that you will be gentle with yourself as you walk your path of grief.  Don't be surprised by anything, just "be" with it and know that all is in order. 
Grieving is a funny business.  Just when you think you have it all figured out - you don't.  And it's all good!

How about you...how has grief played with you?  Please share.

 

More comforting words....

A few weeks ago I posted Comforting Words and shared the letter Bill wrote to me just before he died.  The feedback/comments I received were wonderful and heartwarming....thank you!  A few days ago, my mom sent the following, to be added to my "wonderful collection of quotes".  I don't think she anticipated how much comfort it would bring me.

As you might imagine, with ALS a constant presence, Bill and I talked a lot about death and the process of dying.  Not in a morbid or fatalistic way, but more from a perspective of curiosity and observation.  We became avid students and both agreed that whether you believe in creation or evolution, the body is quite an amazing vehicle!  My mom attended the memorial services of a friend of ours who died recently, not from ALS (thank goodness!), but rather in the way I hope to go...natural causes.  Hilarie was well into her 90's and had lived a very full and productive life. She was sassy and good natured, right to the end, so I find this quote is especially fitting.   

In coming to the realization that his life was coming to an end, Edward Madison Cameron shared these words with his aging body:


“When you can go no further, I shall leave you and be free… When we separate I shall continue to exist. A Power greater than you and I started us on our journey. Your journey is approaching its end and you are aware of it. My journey has merely begun and I know it because I have never felt more alive. Our separation is, therefore, not one of sadness, but of joy. You are weary and want to stop. I am longing to alight from this slowing vehicle and go on without you.”

To my dad, Bill, Hilarie, and the many friends and family members who are no longer with me physically, I toast your spirit and offer a prayer of gratitude for the many gifts of love and life you've left behind.

Calm in the midst of a storm.

I have often joked, "pick your own natural disaster and call it home".  Me...I live in earthquake country.  It's crazy I know, but a small price to pay to be within 4 hours of any kind of weather I want, exquisite dining and culture, the Golden Gate Bridge and a short drive to some of the best wines in the world!  For you, it may be floods, hurricanes, searing heat, sub-zero cold, tornados, or humidity (that acts like MiracleGro® to blood-sucking mosquitos!), but we all brave the elements, wherever we live. 

Because there is generally no warning before an earthquake, there are measures I have taken to be prepared for when the "big one" hits. I check my supplies at least once a year, but for the most part, I don't have to think much about it, because I can physically go to that spot whenever I am feeling anxious, touch the supplies/check my list and ground myself with a measure of confidence. In addition to regular fire drills (stop, drop and roll), evacuation drills (remain calm and move quickly to the designated area) and earthquake drills (drop, cover and hold on), I know that if the time ever comes, I can go my spot, take a deep breath and remind myself that whatever else happens, at my core, I have the basics covered, I've practiced and I'll be ok. 

Friends who know me well, know that I am a great believer in the natural order of the universe.  Everything happens for a reason.  There are no accidents.  Most of the angst in the world results mostly from our own perception of words, circumstances or specific situations.  Life and its experiences (good and bad) come at us thick and fast.  We just catch our breath and we're on to the next "adventure".  For me, it's not what happens, it's how I handle or react to what happens, that ultimately makes the difference in whether an event bends me, breaks me or catapults me forward into something infinitely better.  My reaction ultimately determines my resiliance and perception of the event. 

And...I can hear you all loud and clear!  "Hey Kath...wouldn't is be just ducky if there was an emotional disaster preparedness kit?"  A great question and there is!  Today's post from the DailyOM - one of my favorite websites - reminds me of exactly why I subscribe to their daily newsletter to help me stock my psychic supply box with everything I could possibly need to weather life's storms.

This site is an online fountain of inspiration and practical tools to help each reader find his/her own center in the midst of the crazy, fun, chaos we call life.  Their tagline is "Nurturing Mind Body and Spirit" and for me that is exactly what they deliver.  Day in and day out the writers at DailyOM deliver a thoughtful and positive message, complete with practical suggestions, that reminds me of the emergency/disaster preparedness kit I have for the times when Mother Nature gets fussy.

Today's message is literally about taking a deep breath in the midst of all of the swirling and noise to touch base with our inner source, as a way to safely anchor myself to the universe and remember that I have everything I need to weather any (perceived!) threats to my emotional stability.  I also subscribe to their daily horoscope and am frequently amazed at just how targeted the message for the day is?!  I am regularly reminded that it is in my best interests to listen to and value the thoughts and opinions of others, and patience is a virture for which I will always strive!  Some days I'm quite sure there's a secret satellite webcam following me so the writers will know EXACTLY what message I need to heed!! 

So how about you?  What do you do to keep your balance when the inevitable storms hit?  Please share your stories here.  In the meantime, "Cool Runnings" Peace be the Journey!

Tentra Progress Report - Week 1

Last week's post regarding the Tentra as a prescription for daily living has turned out to be a great way to channel my blues!  I'm starting to feel more like "me" again....here are a few of the highlights:


Give people more than they expect and do this willfully. 

Work has been somewhat challenging.  I've made it a point to ask about the "next steps" for each of my tasks.  Most of the time, my colleagues have appreciated the extra effort.  I've appreciated that fact that I at least asked/offered. 

When you say "I love you," say it truthfully. 

I've adapted this slightly to recognize and demonstrate appreciation for people in my life and to be specific about what they mean to me.  I found a set of quotes over the weekend and have posted them to Twitter, recognizing specific Tweeps for what they bring to my life.  It felt really great to recognize someone I've never actually met!

Never mock other's dreams. 

I'm generally pretty good at encouraging the dreams and aspirations of those I love/care about, so I had no thought that this would be challenging for me.  That is until my sister-in-law shared a "vision" that she had about her late husband (Bill's older brother) and then asked me if I thought she was crazy?!  I found myself answering "It's not uncharacteristic, but if you think you did/are doing the right thing, then it only matters what you think and I will defend you to my last breath".  She laughed and said she loved me - and it was a big deal for both of us!

Talk slow, think fast. 

This still needs work!

Bless a person who has just sneezed. 

Saying "Bless you" or "God bless you" is almost reflexive for me.  But this week, paying attention to my intention I noticed the most of the folks in the surrounding cubes (including me) suffer from significant allergies.  We're all convinced it's the circulation - which is good for all the desktops, but not so great for the humans.  We are quite a sympony of sneezing, sniffling and nose blowing, punctuated by a chorus of "Bless you's", no matter who sneezes.  I'm thinking of trying accupuncture as an alternative to Zyrtec and Puffs!

Spend some time alone. 

I am really comfortable on my own and am fortunate to enjoy my own company.  Maybe sometimes too much!  I probably need to re-think this suggestion and consider reaching out a little more.  Just a thought....

Read more books and watch television less. 

This is pretty easy since I don't have cable.  So I don't watch TV unless I'm traveling and staying in a hotel.  And then...I'm a channel surfing, clickker crazed maniac!  I fairly certain I have undiagnosed ADOSD (Attention Deficit Ooooohhh Shiny!!! Disorder), so I tend to read magazine articles.  They suit my short attention span.  It's hard for me to pick up a book and read.  Tech geek that I am, I purchased a Kindle from Amazon and boy is it neat!!!  I'm reading "The Zen of Fundraising: 89 Timeless Ideas to Strengthen and Develop Your Donor Relationships".  Hey....it's a start!

Be gentle with our planet Earth. 

As a youngster, I was very active in a Masonic youth group called Job's Daughters.  One of the promises you make when you join is "I will try to do at least one useful act each day".  Every day this week, I have picked up bits of trash that have been in my path and paid closer attention to my recycling habits.  It really took me back to my childhood and that earnest promise to do or be helpful...every day. It's amazing how much litter there is!!  I've felt like I was picking bits of lint off Mother Nature's beautiful dress.  It's so easy to just pick it up and deposit it into a trash can.  And it truly felt good to do something that only I knew about.

I'm not generally fond of having my photo taken, but my niece shot this when we were in Coronado (San Diego, CA) for a family reunion a few years ago.  I love that she took the photo and that I am this close to the water!  And yes....I am very fond of my bright yellow shawl!
 
That's it for me this week.  How have you done with this list - let me know!!

Hey papa....I'm doin' OK!

I no longer have men to honor on Father's Day. Big sigh! I am incredibly grateful to my mom who had to step up way too early to fill both roles when my dad was killed in 1986. She is awesome! I spent the weekend with friends and strangely, my dad and both of my grandfathers have been very close to me today. Note to self...it's probably because I finally slowed down a bit so that I could hear their wisdom! It's the end of the day and I've actually been feeling a little sorry for myself. Boo hoo...pity party's over!

A short history! I'm the oldest of three and my father's (and mom's) first daughter. I was the first grandchild for my mom's parents and the first girl for my dad's parents. In sales, this is called the "sweet spot!" My sister-in-law Flo reminded me tonight that I was truly blessed to have a dad who told me (as did hers!) that I could be and do anything I wanted. Both of my grandfathers spoiled and shaped me with equal parts of love and discipline. Over the years, I've spent countless hours crafting a card or saving money to purchase just the right card and gifts to honor the great men in my life. Tonight I realize that I honor each of them with the gift of the woman I have become, complete with a little tiny spark from each of them. Here are a few of the many lessons I have learned from three great men.

At two (ish), I was a driver...no surprise to those that know me, but in this case it's not a personality trait... I really thought I was a driver! I was left unattended for a split second, crawled up into the driver's seat of my grandfather's car, pulled the gear shift into reverse and gleefully rode backwards, down the driveway into the street of a very quiet suburban neighborhood in Van Nuys, CA. My Grandpa Bernie was a fair, but stern disciplinarian and as soon as I was pulled safely from the driver's seat, he administered a single, very firm swat to the seat of my too young to drive bottom. Tears ensued. I went to the judge of my favorite court...my dad...knowing that through my tears, justice would be served! "Grampy spanked me!" My father, an equally fair man heard both sides of the story, held me in his arms and decided in favor of the defendant "You probably earned it!" Case dismissed. I learned very early that there will always be consequences for my actions, but that I could always count on my dad to hear my side of any story. I love this photo of my sister "J" and me which was on my grandfather's dresser for as long as I can remember.

I moved away from home when I was about 23. My parents were equally supportive and helped with the move, but it was my dad who drove with me from Concord to Petaluma with the last load of my belongings. We talked about a lot of things that day, but I remember asking if he was going to miss me once I moved out. I had the cool parents growing up! After a long pause, he said no, that he was going to miss my friends. I was crushed and could not hold back the big aligator tears of my disappointment. He pulled me close and said that I would always be in his heart, so he would never actually miss me. It was a small consolation at the time, but over the years, I've come to understand this single moment in time from his perspective. As a parent, you pray that your children will make good choices when selecting their friends and associates. My parents believed that your character is measured by the company you keep. I am truly blessed and always have been, with some extraordinary friends. I have friends today, that never knew my dad, but I know in my heart that he would have loved them and would be proud of my choices!

From my grandpa Mac, I learned grace, quiet dignity and the fine art of entertaining seven young grandchildren at a formal dinner table. You can see from the photo there was a certain twinkle in his eyes that drew everyone in and made them feel special. My grandmother Gladys was certain that it was her sole responsibility to ensure that we were instilled with civility and table manners. She did a great job, but kids are kids and sometimes you just have to "bust out"...even if you're a big kid!! My grandfather would never defy or challenge my grandmother openly...that could only lead to the woodshed! However, he was a kid at heart and would slip us a piece of forbidden candy, whisper something funny to one of us and ask us to pass the "secret" to one of our parents, or some equally mild mischief. To which, my grandmother would often raise an eyebrow, give us all "the look" and order would once again be restored to her beautifully set table. At one holiday meal, with 15 or so of us seated around a very long table, my father (seated at one end) asked his father (seated at the opposite end) "hey pop, can you toss me a roll?" Without hesitation, my grandpa Mac selected a roll from the linen napkin lined basket and launched a perfect pitch to my dad, who was equally quick to raise his hands and form a two handed catcher's mitt. Thud! All eyes turned to my grandmother who had moved to the kitched for something. Not one single breath, peep, twitch, blink, or other movement came from 7 awestruck grandchildren and 2 nervous mothers, for a full 30 seconds. You could have heard a pin drop on the carpet!!! A (very, faintly) fleeting smile accompanied her trademark raised eyebrow and everyone let out a collective breath. I can only imagine the conversation my grandmother had with my grandpa that night after we were all safely in our respective beds!! The lesson I learned was that good table manners matter, sometimes you need to be serious, but when it gets too serious, it's a good practice to toss a roll!

My dad was and will always be a super-hero. This is one of my favorite photos from when I was in Job's Daughters. The final lesson learned from my dad that I will share tonight is this. It is not the job of parents to just hand things to children or to do all their thinking. My dad told me regularly that his official job was to teach me to think for myself. He and my mom believed that parents are responsible for raising children who can operate independently in the world. His job was to think for himself and just stay a little ahead of me so he would always seem to be wise!

If you think about it, it's really too much work to think for two people. My gift to my dad tonight is to acknowledge the following exchange between us... the coolest gift my dad ever gave me. "Dad...I'm doing/planning to do XYZ". "Are you sure you want to do that?" "yeah dad...I'm sure". "Are you SURE, you're sure?" "Absolutely!" "OK. I have band-aids and bactine ready on the sidelines. The next time we talk, I'm gonna patch you up, pat you on the behind and send you back into the game...cool?" "OK dad...what is it that I'm not seeing?" "I raised a very wise and beautiful daughter!"

To my dad and grandfathers...you rock! I miss you so much, but know that I am a living tribute to each of you. I am grateful for your love and strength. To all the dads out there....EVERY SINGLE DAY is Father's Day. Hug your daughters tight and tell them you love and respect them. Remind them daily they can do or be anything they choose. Tell them you are honored they carry your name and that you are their #1 cheering section. Tell them you will always be on the sidelines with bandaids and bactine. Love them as you patch them up and send them back into "the game" of life. Tell them you pray they will marry men who will respect and honor them. Teach them to hold out for those honorable men. It is the single best gift you can give us.

"It gets a whole lot more complicated when you have kids...The most terrifying day of your life is the day the first one is born...Your life as you know it is gone. Never to return. But they learn how to walk, and they learn how to talk...and you want to be with them. And they turn out to be the most delightful people you will ever meet in your life." Bob Harris, Lost in Translation

The New Road

Starting over without your life partner is not easy. In fact, I am inclined to agree with what many say about ALS. It SUCKS!

The reality is, while he is never any farther from me than my own heartbeat, my best friend and life partner Bill will never again share my bed, tease me about my terrible joke telling skills, "handle" the bugs and rodents that occasionally show up or even send up his distinctive "meow" because I've wandered away from him in the grocery store and he can't find me. This, and oh so much more...I miss.

So...each and every day I have a choice. I can (attempt to) stay firmly rooted in the past, where it's familiar, where I would like to be. Where Bill and I were - together. I can stay in bed, under the covers, and let the world go on its merry way. I don't have to participate and you can't make me. (sound like a petulant 3 year old you know?!) I did in fact, choose this option in the first days and weeks following Bill's death. I can definitively tell you that it's dark and not particularly interesting under the covers!

So the only real option for me seems to be - put on my big girl knickers and a brave face, pack a snack and hit the new road. I've learned and come to appreciate, that if I am nothing else...I am resilient. I am not wired to live in the past....I live in the here and now. Unfortunately, I'm told that I make grieving look easy, or worse, that I didn't grieve at all?! For the record, I grieved along the way. Every day, some new bit of functionality was lost and Bill had to hand that off to me. Trust me, we both cried.

So the question is, how to keep the bravery going? Just as ALS has its own path with every patient, so the recovery path is different with every survivor. With Bill's passing, I knew that fundamentally I was different. But when I looked in the mirror, I saw the "same" me. I would get tripped up and start the crying all over again. And we all know what that looks like! After a good cry, you can't breathe, your eyes are red and swollen, your nose is runny and red from blowing, you have a raging headache and in general...look/feel like crap! Great!? How would I ever break the cycle?

For me, it was a change in haircolor. I will forever be grateful to my hairdresser, and good friend Alisa who mixed her magic and transformed me from blonde to the red I should have been born with. This one small change put me on the firm road to recovery. We did not get the red "right" the first time, but the change was transformative. Each time I looked in the mirror, I literally saw a new person. In time I began to think differently. I began to act differently and with each baby step, I got stronger and more confident in my new path. It's not always easy, but each day it gets easier and I have never looked back. Thank you Alisa...you are a genius!

SPECIAL NOTE: DO NOT TRY THIS ON YOUR OWN! Seriously. If you choose to make a significant change with your haircolor, go to a trained, certified colorist. Get recommendations and spend the money to have it done right.