Finding A New Way Of Being

[kayc]

We are purely miserable with the heat. It's not as dry here as Arizona and most do not have A/C. It is 21 degrees hotter than usual this time of year. It's unrelenting. We haven't had rain since June 1, excepting a few tiny drops last week for one minute. Hardly worth mentioning! It's been running over 100 every day and it doesn't look like it's due to let up.

We don't have smoke here yet but there are fires going in Oregon and it looks to be a bad year for it. We are concerned about the drought, about running out of water, etc. I'm not sure I'll survive the summer with this heat! Not used to it. Give me winter any time!

[feralfae]

At lunch today, we talked about prepping our cars with our bug-out bags and important papers, with the car always facing out toward to road/street. I hope you are having less smoke over your way.

I am sorry to hear you are having the same weather.

I like the winter better, too. I am hiding out in the lower level, and have closed the house again, both for coolness and to keep the smoke outside.

Very few here have A/C, so we are all hiding in the coolest places we can find. I hope you have a shady tree and a place to cool your toes.

[kayc]

There IS no cool place here. Humidity is over 55 and any way you cut it, it's just plain hot. I have to travel to the valley for the dentist tomorrow, not looking forward to it. I just want someone to wake me when this is over!

[feralfae]

Oh, Kay, that is terrible! And you live too far away to invite girlfriends to meet you for a visit and two hours of sitting in an A/C restaurant over a glass of iced tea. (We leave a few $$ for booth rent!) I hope the dentist appointment goes well, and that this weather breaks soon -- for all of us.

[kayc]

I saw the hygienist today, but she wants me to come back for a dental exam. Will make the appt. after the weather cools down.

Since I had to go to town anyway, I decided to look for an outfit to wear to my nephew's wedding Aug. 1, I found something that is perfect! An ivory/white lace skirt, middie length with a short built in slip and a lacy gauzy sleeveless top in same color, it will be perfect to look both dressy and suffice in this heat and be comfortable. Comfort is high on my list!

Bought Arlie a new toy too since he was home suffering in this abominable heat. It was 4 degrees cooler today, I noticed, believe it or not!

[LadyCarrie]

Your outfit sounds so lovely and perfect, Kay. I'm so happy you found just the right thing. That's not an easy thing to do these days.

I'm also happy for Arlie!

Carrie

[feralfae]

I did not realize I had been away from here for this long.  Things keep happening.  Life goes on.

I am slowly learning to cope with this autoimmune disorder that has taken a toll on my liver, and I am holding off on taking any of the chemo (my cancer is in remission, but the chemo can help suppress the symptoms of the autoimmune disorder) and other medications, because the side effects are notably terrible and can be terribly dangerous, including the possibility of developing more cancer or a fatal infection, and of causing more damage to the liver.  I do not understand much of what is going on these days in the medical profession, other than that I do understand much of the education our doctors here in the US receive in our medical schools is sponsored by pharmaceutical corporations, who greedily push their drugs. 

I wish I had more energy, but my energy is slowly increasing.  I find my plate so full most days of things to get done—especially things I must do to take care of my own health—that I seem to have a lot less time for reading or sharing here.  Most days, I just ask Doug and G*d to help me make it through the days, and know that things will work out for the best, no matter what.

I am so very grateful to still be alive, to have found a way to stay on this healing journey, to have not become too bitter or angry to be able feel the wonderful love Doug and I had, and to be able accept where my life is right now.  Goodness and mercy keep arriving in my life right on time when I most need it, and I have come to have more trust in the loving care and constant presence of a kindly and magnificent Creator who brings what I need to me, whether it is a fresh outlook, a new healing path, or a friend who says the very words I needed to hear.  I am surrounded by miracles and lovingkindness every day, and I think sometimes I forget that fact when the pain of loss strikes and my grief swells so much that I cannot swallow, nor can I stop the tears.  I don't cry every day now, and some of those tears are for the trauma, but mostly, I simply miss my husband and his love and his presence here in our home.  

There is so much going on in my life right now that the days are very filled with "doing" and that helps.  We take down the art show next week; the foundation taxes are with the accountant and almost done; my medical tests are coming back better although I am not taking the pharmaceuticals that were prescribed—which totally confounds the doctors; I am shipping family heirlooms off to family members so they can have the fun of dusting stuff for a while  ; I am in the initial stages of vetting and perhaps taking on a new client; my courage, confidence, mental sharpness and curiosity are all returning, as well as my creativity; the studio is almost ready for me to begin a new series; my dear friend whom I visit often and who is now in assisted living is holding stable, and that is a blessing for her and for all of us who love her.  

This journey along the grieving path is a slow one, with healing happening at depths of my heart and spirit that I did not know were there.  I have gained some bits of wisdom, and must say that I think that while this grief will continue to soften and the pain will grow less prominent in my daily life, the loss and sadness are going to be a part of who I am from now on, and that is how we humans are designed, I think.  I would love for Doug to show up and take me in his arms and hold me one more time and tell me that everything is all right.  But I do feel him here, comforting and reassuring me, and that is enough for today.  And today is all any of us have.  

I am learning to love and appreciate life again for its own beauty and richness, and finding ways to enjoy and savor my days even while I long for Doug's presence.  But I am finding solace in the certainty that we will be together again.   

It is comforting and gives me a sense of continuity to come here and feel a part of this community of grief and healing.  We are each finding our way on our path, but we have much in common and much to share, and I hope that some of my words may offer some hope for healing and finding a way along this new, solo path for anyone who reads this.  We will make it.  Life will never be the same, but it can be rich and full and we can know joy again.  I do believe that, and I think we are given that reassurance by our Creator as well.  

namaste and 

*<twinkles>*

far

[kayc]

My dear fae,

It is so good to hear from you again.  I am glad you are making plans to be creative again, and am glad your friend is doing well in assisted living.  It feels good to pass on some of the family heirlooms, doesn't it!  My children don't seem interested so am not sure what I'll do with the stuff I've collected over the years,  none of it worth overly much.

I am away this weekend, visiting my granddaughter, helping take care of her while my son and daughter-in-law get some things done.
I am sorry for the medial challenges you've been having.  Unfortunately, what you say about the medical profession is quite true.  Arlie has been sick 2.5 weeks and I am so disenchanted with vets I have been trying my level best to get him well on my own without their useless aid.  I will know come Monday if it has worked.
Be well, my friend...
Kay

[feralfae]

I felt Doug with me yesterday as I went in to the lab for the last two tests that had to have samples, and now I wait a week or so for the results. If all is well, I won't need any more tests for several months, and hope to be free to travel.  I am still looking of a new car to replace my wonderful Honda CRV that is 14 years old with 220,000 miles on it, and really needs to be replaced.  Then I will feel better about driving longer distances.  As well, I continue with sorting and simplifying my life, getting rid of a lot of things.

I am trying to remember all the good times Doug and I had, to accept but distance myself from a lot of the painful past with the criminals, and to find ways to look at the future and believe that there is going to be a good life for me, and that I am in the flow of time toward more peace, more happiness, and more acceptance of this new life.  There are still many days when I find it impossible to make it through the day without wishing Doug were here to share the decision-making with me, here to hug me, and here to enjoy the song of a bluebird, or the gentle bounding of one of the rabbits, as it comes to us for some carrot bits.  Making big decisions without him is still an awkward and tiring process, the car hunt bringing this starkly into focus. I am still putting off making decisions about many things until these test results are all back.  They loom large across any path to the future that I might want to travel.  I am being as patient as I can, but also realistically knowing that I am in a very stressful situation right now with the waiting.  At these times, I miss Doug more than I can say.

I wish I could write a slew of reassuring words that this grief gradually gets softer and easier to bear, but I don't think it is quite the way it works all of the time.  Sometimes, there are great surges of longing and sadness, when it feels as though the world has stopped, hesitating in its path until somehow, Doug will be here with me and I will  feel whole and hopeful and certain and confident in myself again.  Then the surge fades, and the world begins to spin again, but those times when the world stops, I feel my own heart wanting to reach out and pull Doug back, to pull time back, to pull life back, so that things will be all right again.  

These times of readjustment, of being retrograde against the passage of time, seem to pull up the deepest of the sorrow and pain.  I hope this is a healthy process, and so I let myself wail and sob.  When I can let out some of the deep pain, I feel more peaceful and hopeful.  It is as though I must occasionally acknowledge and then resolutely step through a thicket of thorns to reach the next place of peace on this journey.  Sometimes, the path is simply overgrown with sorrow, and all I can do is bushwhack my way through, crying as the pain leaves my heart, and knowing that somewhere ahead, there will be more peace and that I will be pulled -- rescued -- back into a more even existence.  But those times of deep clearing and deep pain are very tiring and hard to bear.  I think because so much of my time is now fairly peaceful, that when these world-stopping times come, it feels terrible against the background of some peaceful days.   

So my thicket of thorns right now is the waiting for the test results.  I am going to pamper myself for a couple of days with reading, needlepoint, and only a few hours at the desk, working on one client file.  

I may not be as active as I usually am, but at least I am still standing.

*<twinkles>*

fae

[kayc]

My dear fae,

It's good to hear from you, and it lets me know how I can pray for you.  You have had a lot on your plate, in addition to grieving.  I hope the test results are good and you can have some much needed respite.

As for the grief, I've learned to carry it with me.  A part of me will always feel I'm missing much, I am.  But I've learned to carry the sadness inside of me while still embracing what good there is in my life.

Right now I'm going through a lot with Arlie and his medical situation.  Was not prepared for this as he's just eight years old.  Some days he does so well...today he is not.  One day at a time, I'm doing my best with it.

I hope you enjoy your needlepoint and pampering yourself!

[enna]

Hello dear fae,

Oh, how we are moving through this grief work. We are learning to live and grow and even on some days find ourselves smiling. We know we will always miss our beloved spouses but we also know they are still with us. We are examples of perseverance on this journey. I wish we could say something to help those who are new in their grief that we do learn to carry it with some grace. Our pain is very real and will always be with us ~ we just allow it and let it be enough.

How helpful it has been to have this warm and caring place to come. Some of us have known one another for three or more years. 

You are always in my heart.

Anne

[MartyT]

Fae, my dear, I picture you sitting in the midst of that thicket of thorns, and how I wish we could arm ourselves with hatchets and scythes so we could hack our way through all of it and rescue you. Yes, waiting is difficult, and pondering the possible outcomes is so hard, especially without your beloved Doug there in person to hold you and reassure you. We cannot be there in person either, but please know that you are being held in gentle thought and prayer by all of us. Hearing your beautiful voice and seeing you here from time to time is a gift we all treasure, and I hope you will keep us posted as all of this unfolds . . .  ♥

[feralfae]

Thank you so much, Kay and Anne and Marty.  I am trying really hard to keep in mind that worry is never helpful, but also being realistic about what the doctors have said.  Well, some of what they said, anyway.   

Some days are super and filled with promise and activity and feeling that I am making it very well through the challenges.  But I have observed that generally after a few days of being very involved, busy with people, and "out in the world" I need to withdraw and recharge my energy levels.  This is my long-time personality: I used to take Wednesdays off when I was at Northwestern, and also when we were very active with the foundation.  So, today being Wednesday, I am hoping to take off most of the day from work, worries and needing to check things off of the task list.  Just rest today, I hope.  

I sometimes think of how wonderful, active, full, rich, happy, and complete most of my life has been, and that this trough of grief, healing, recovery, health issues, and occasional confusion and despair are simply a part of the balancing out of life.  I believe there will be more summits, but right now, I must admit I still feel that I am convalescing much of the time.  It takes me back to after my bad fall, with both my arms in casts, a dislocated knee, cracked head, all that stuff that happens when a human falls a long distance.  And I trusted my body to heal then, with the help of doctors and therapists.  So, I must trust now that my spirit and heart will heal.  Healing is a natural process for us, although I think we all go about healing in our own way, at our own speed, using our own means to arrive back at wholeness.  I can feel my body and my spirit longing toward wholeness, and some days, I can feel that wholeness for a while.  

I appreciate more than I can say the support and love of each of you, and know that my world is a better place, and my healing a better journey, because of your presence in my life.  I cry for myself sometimes, thinking about what I have been through these last several years, and yet I know that my blessings continue: I have wonderful support around me; I still have Doug's love and loving presence; I am walking and moving around better than I have since before the cauda equina, although I have lost some nerves and muscles. I am tentatively reaching into life again, not being so fearful of what I might discover there.  

Thank you.  Thank you. 

*<twinkles>*

fae

Edited March 30, 2016 by feralfae
typos needed fixing

[MartyT]

♥

[kayc]

That must have been some nasty fall!  You are doing as I like to do, using a hard spot from the past to remind yourself that you got through that...you'll get through this.  I hope you enjoyed your day off today, fae!

[feralfae]

I find myself drawn back here to my first "grief home" where I have always felt able to express my grief and share my feelings.  I don't know why this 50th month anniversary of Doug's leaving on April 7th has been such a tough one for me.  Maybe because having good medical reports has freed that part of me which has been on "medical alert" for the last four years.  Maybe because it is a while since I have had any serious medical issues requiring surgery.  Maybe because it is Spring and Doug is not here to plan and plant the garden with me, or to have our first Spring picnic with me.  

I think the relief from getting all the great medical reports let me relax and open my heart more, and so now I am feeling new depths of sadness and missing having Doug here to celebrate this wonderful news.  I was truly prepared to get more and more ill, and then die, and was consoled by the fact that at least I would be with Doug, so it would be okay.  It is true what they say: great news can be stressful, too.  I had really surrendered, after four years of medical issues, to slowly, gracefully, peacefully fading away, joining Doug and leaving all of this life behind, and it really did not feel so bad to consider that.  

But I also prayed, did a lot of research, and led a disciplined life of diet, exercise, meditation, and more prayer.  And a lot of loving people prayed for me as well.  I am in awe of the power or prayer.  I think it is going to take a while to adjust to the fact that I am healthy again, and that life is going to go on.  I need to adjust in new ways to life without Doug.  I need to adjust to being able to expect more from my body, and to gaining more energy and strength.  I need to let the toxic trauma stuff and the terror keep leaving my body, so I can move on to focusing on other things.  

I feel so very blessed to have been led to this healing place where we understand and can empathize with each other in our days of deep pain and overwhelming grief.  I feel fortunate to share with others the struggles, the triumphs, and the day-to-day living that we learn to do without our husbands or wives.  I feel honored to listen and to speak among this tribe of loving strangers who become close friends through the process of sharing from our hearts.  

This journey is a long one, starting in the deepest center of our hearts, and branching off in all the healing directions we need to travel to find our way back to a new balance and a new sort of life.  Without this Tribe, around this Fire, I don't think I would have found my way along my Path.   

Thank you Marty, for your beautiful spirit and your loving presence, and for the gift of this healing place.

*<twinkles>*

fae

[MartyT]

You are so very welcome, dearest fae, and I hope with all my heart that you can feel my loving arms around you. Every time you come here to share I feel so blessed. You have such a beautiful way of expressing what is in your mind ~ and it is a beautiful mind indeed.  ♥

[kayc]

Oh my dear fae, I am in tears at your report, tears of joy and poignancy!  I am so glad to see you here and delighted to hear your good report!

As I was reading your possible reasons for coming back here, I thought to myself, possible ALL of the reasons stated!

[feralfae]

It is good to be here.  But now, I must get to sleep, because there is a very full day tomorrow.  Kay, you are right, I think it is all the reasons.

*<twinkles>*

fae

 

[MartyT]

Good night, dear fae ~ and as my Daddy always used to say,

[feralfae]

I came here today because I felt the need for the solace I find reading the words of others whose hearts have been broken by loss as well.  Here I find some hope and a sense of commitment to going on with life, no matter how long it takes to get up off the floor, much less move forward.

There has been so much going on in my life, almost all of it still related to losing Doug.  I've spent several months up in Alaska, and finally was able to make a decision to let go of our home up there.  I'm also backing away for a while from many projects, knowing I need to focus more on my own emotional health and physical health needs right now.  

One of the hardest things I have had to do was let go of our home in Fairbanks.  There were too many thing that needed to be fixed on the house due to age and years of being rented, and after I consulted with an architect and an engineer, as well as spending a lot of my time cleaning and making small repairs, I decided that I needed to just give up.  And the atmosphere up there was so sad.  Even with some friends, I felt very isolated and alone, especially being surrounded by so many happy memories and being constantly reminded that those days are over.   

I see so many of my friends who lost their spouses after I lost Doug, who are now happily remarried, who have moved on with life, who have let go of the past, taken down all the photos, cleaned their houses, and in many instances moved to a new location.  I see a few who are still where they were, still single, but some of them dating now.  And I?  I feel terribly alone, vulnerable, and not sure of what decisions to make about my own future.  

But maybe the reason I feel so vulnerable and alone right now is that I've only been home a couple of weeks, and am still feeling the aftershocks of all that happened up in Alaska.  I am working on being patient and compassionate with myself, desperately wishing Doug were here to tell me what is the best thing to do, and hoping the insights I need will arrive soon.  Meanwhile, I am just  here, in survival mode, knowing that we are each in survival mode, and that these days of being tired, of being confused, or being unsure of myself, and of simply wanting Doug to help me with it all, these days will pass and things will get better.  I will find a way, I will heal, and life will look more beautiful to me again soon.  I am in the recovery stage from the recent efforts, battles, and additional losses. So keep me in your prayers, and I'll keep doing the best I can each day. 

It has been almost five years since Doug left, and yet I still miss him every day and long to just be able to hold hands with him, to feel the comfort of his presence, and to know that he is watching over me, no matter what happens.  Some days are a lot better, and a few days are even worse, but this set of losses up in Alaska has thrown me back into grief and emptiness.  I know we have these times, and that there will always be these days of feeling overwhelmed with sadness and grief.  I now it will pass.  But right now, I just wish I could feel myself wrapped in one of Doug's wonderful hugs, safe and protected.

I am stronger and certainly less lost than I was 5 years ago, but some days feel as though things are not getting better, just staying the same, sitting here not able to see even the faintest glimmer of the light of hope.  

I know this is a "downer" of a posting, but the reality of grief, of loss of this magnitude, is that it can be thins bad sometimes, even years and years later, and we find a way to live through it.  I think a part of my way to live though it is to share it here, so that it does not feel so heavily centered on my own heart, but so that I can see it as a grief shared by the world.

namaste,

fas

 

 

[enna]

Dear friend,

It is good to see you here again but not for the reason you are here. I along with you still need to be with those who understand our significant losses. We manage to live day-to-day knowing that we will never be the same. How could we be! Your return to MT after the decision to leave Alaska is yet another chapter in your life living without the physical presence of your Doug. I am glad you were able to make closure up in Alaska. We appreciate the beauty of life around us but always with a sadness that it cannot be shared with Jim and Doug as we used to share. I still have periods of time when something happens that I want to tell Jim about it. Oh, I talk to him every day but it is not the same. I feel that journaling here helps me because I am sharing with so many others who truly understand.

There are so many things that we miss about our spouses ~ hugs are at the top of my list. The warmth I felt when he held me is truly missed. Love and hugs to you. 

Anne

[kayc]

fae,

Oh my dear friend, I can't tell you how happy I am to hear from you!!  I was going to ask Anne yesterday if she'd heard from you but we talked nonstop until our ears were falling off and still weren't done talking!

You are making the best and wisest decision you can, dear fae, that of taking care of YOU first!  That's one of the most important things I've learned since George died, that of self care, and I didn't begin to learn that until I retired.  Balance, learning when and what to let go of.  Learning to accept the things we cannot change and the wisdom to know the difference.

I agree with Anne...missing his holding me.  I, too, have a dear friend who has remarried and is happy, she's moved, started over, I'm truly glad for her, but at this point in my life, I've accepted things and honestly, I look forward to the day we're joined together again, all while living in the present, gleaning what I can and giving what I can as well.

I pray your adjustment to even this bides well for you, so you can devote yourself to healing and being...in this very moment.

Love you,

Kay

[feralfae]

It has been a while since I have been here. I've just gone through several days of living through the fifth anniversary of Doug's leaving.  I wanted to some here and share this with everyone.  Our godchildren, many friends, and even some of our neighbors have visited, called, or simply sent a card to recognize this 5-year milestone of time passing since we lost Doug.

Have hope.  I know it is hard and that when we are newly lost in the world without our spouses, we feel that nothing will ever be in balance again, that the world has shifted to a place of darkness, and there will never be light or warmth again in our lives.  But it happens.  It has taken five years so far for me to find my way back to something that feels fairly normal.  Life is very different now, without Doug, and I still miss him every day.  All around me in our home are reminders of him, and I have a file of all his notes and letters to me that I read and review when I am feeling lost.

But I am gradually gaining a new sense of who I am now, of a future which I must plan and prepare to enter, and a sense that while Doug is still with me and still loves me, that there is going to be a new life for me that will carry me along and bring new happiness and sense of direction into my life.  

This has been the most difficult journey I have ever made—and I am not sure it is over yet—but I have a sense that the emotional growth, the new insights into emotional pain, and the grief that I have learned to carry will all serve me in the future.  I have a lot more compassion with bereavement now.  I understand the sense of utter loss, of life ending in so many ways that life seems to be over.  I think I will be more kindly and caring toward those who are suffering from a terrible loss, and I think I will be able to listen to their need to share with a more open and empathetic heart.

This has also been a time of great growth for me.  I have a sense that I have reached a new level of maturation, and that all my relationships with other will be richer, fuller, more open and caring, because I have had to face the worst, accept it, and live through it: Doug has left that cancer-filled body and only his spirit is with me now.

In these five years, there have been many days when all I wanted to do was to join Doug and be with him again.  But this gift of life is such a precious thing, so I am glad I am still here to enjoy the life I have been given, and to find new ways to express my love of life and  all of creation. 

Hang in there.  It is the roughest journey, but on the other side are opportunities we cannot imagine to help others and live a fuller, richer life, although a different life.

Namaste,

*<twinkles>*

feralfae

[enna]

Thank you for your uplighting message of hope, fae. As you have come to your five-year mark I will join you in May of this year for my fifth year without my Jim. We have traveled miles through this grief and we are facing the struggles of doing so without our spouses. There is hope and as you say life is so precious. 

Love to you, Anne