Gratitude

Tis the season for an attitude of gratitude. I'm more familiar with grumpy than gratitude but....

• I'm glad I survived the wreck. If you had asked me before the wreck if I wanted to die at the same time as Ron, I would have said, "yes." But that was because I was so afraid of losing him. When I woke up in the hospital, I immediately knew that it was his time but not mine and I wasn't afraid. Just terribly sad. I believe I'm here for a reason. I can think of several possibilities but I don't really know. For right now, I'm just focusing on healing and awaiting instructions from a higher power. I miss Ron like hell, like I knew I would, but I'm not afraid to live without him.

• I am most grateful of all for family and friends. I am still amazed by all the energy and love that has held me up for the past two years. It's never even begun to slack up. I wish I could think of a way to write a story about it. I'm trying but haven't figured out how I want it yet. In this day and age of incredible busy-ness when everyone is overloaded with way, way too much to do, people carved huge chunks out of their lives to be there for me in every conceivable way. They fed me, clothed me, sat with me, cried with me, slept at my house to oversee my middle of the night fears and bathroom visits, cared for my cat, helped me pay my bills and take care of the massive amount of paper work involved after an accident and a death, helped me take a bath, did my laundry, cleaned my house, brought me 12 Step meetings in the hospital and at home, helped me do Ron's memorial (mostly they did it. I didn't do much), gave money to help with extra expenses, took me to the doctor, picked up prescriptions, went to the grocery store, mowed the grass, fixed my house so that I could manage in a wheelchair, took me to meetings, took me out to eat, took me to the movies and just sat around and loved me. Utterly amazing. I'm particularly grateful for my daughters who both had major changes going on in their lives at the time of the wreck - one moved from Virginia to Texas and the other had a brand new baby. They really had their lives disrupted one more time but stood up under it like the tough, loving women they are. I've heard it said that sometimes there's nothing you can do to repay what's given to you except to pass it on. This is certainly one of those times.

More on gratitude later.

Dreams

I've been having some dandy dreams. They are very entertaining to me. It occurred to me that writing them down might be useful, so...

I dreamed I was having sex with conjoined twins. It went rather well.

I dreamed I was a man who was going for a job interview. When I looked in the mirror, I thought I looked anxious. So I decided to lower my eyebrows because I thought I would look calm. The whole dream was about plucking my eyebrows just the right amount at the top and brushing them down with a brush and then putting gel on them so they would stay down. When I finished, I left the mirror and the dream was over.

Back Again

I see I've been absent a long time again. That's mostly because I've been up to my ears in change. It took awhile to recover from surgery. Plus right before surgery I made the decision to step down from my job in order to have more time to do the things I need to do to heal, and to allow them to find someone to do the important work that I cannot do due to my recovery issues. It was a very good decision. I felt stress leave as soon as I made it. I had thought my recovery would be in a fairly straight line upward. I was wrong - it's been up and down and a lot of down. So, I spent the time before surgery rushing around to set up a new business through which I will contract to do a small amount of work. After surgery, as soon as I was able, I prepared for the CRUISE that my oldest daughter and I have been planning for a long time. We booked it to celebrate my being able to walk with a cane. But as it happened, I went in my wheelchair because it turned out that the femur in my right leg was not healed, and that's why I needed the surgery. So, we celebrated surviving adversity in pretty good shape instead.

The cruise was a great experience - just rest and kindness and good food and beautiful music. It was lovely to spend the time with Liz. She's been with me through this extremely tough experience and has managed to be positive through it all. And this is in spite of a difficult two years of her own. The highlight next to the beauty of it all, was the crew of the ship - representing more than 100 different countries. They were friendly and kind and fascinating people.

Now I'm back to reality - going through mail, paperwork from surgery (a full time job), and just trying to see what I need to be doing to play my part in healing. I've decided to put myself on a very high nutrition diet, increase my exercise, and do all I can to develop spiritually. That way I will know I've done my part to heal. The rest will be up to a higher power, of course

Battle of the Sexes

I am worried that these facts I pick up here and there; handled casually by the media like they aren't important at all; are as important as water and food to people but totally unnoticed!

I just heard on NBC (a talk show with two psychologists) that the "friends with benefits" phenomenon that seems to be popular right now, doesn't work at all well for women. Well, we women probably already knew that, but there's science that explains it. It seems that testosterone blocks the receptors in the brain that cause attachment as a result of the pleasure hormone that floods the brain during good sex. But women become strongly attached as a result of the pleasure hormone because, of course, we don't have enough testosterone to block the attachment.

Think how much heartache women suffer because we become so deeply emotionally attached to guys we experience sexual pleasure with while they remain completely detached. We decide that we're in love and expect him to be also. Think how much some guys disrespect women because they think women are "weak" based on our propensity for "falling in love" uninvited. And all the time it's a plot by biology for guys to run around impregnating women without getting attached while the women get attached and stay faithful out of "love." Oh how sad.

Of course, I also heard a couple of years ago - again on some t.v. show with psychologists - that when men fall in love (and no I have no idea what the biology is that causes it), their testosterone drops and so they become very attached and become like women in their desire to kiss, hug, cuddle, etc. Eventually this wears off and they are not as attached, and they don't like to cuddle, etc. unless it leads to sex. Think how much heartache women suffer because suddenly the love of their lives detaches from them and only cares about sex. Men wonder what happened - why did she become all disgustingly clingy but doesn't want sex? Biology again.

If people knew this it would really save a lot of pain for women. Men would have to work a lot harder to get into womens' pants, so to speak. We women wouldn't expect as much from the poor babies because we'd know they couldn't help but be detached. They're programmed to move from woman to woman and if they don't it's a miracle. Of course, our mothers and grandmothers told us this, but we didn't believe them. It turns out they were right. I hate that. Of course, all this just makes me want some testosterone or to be celibate for the rest of my life.

Edith Bunker

I swear I have got to start writing things down that I read or hear so that I can identify where these fascinating things come from. I'm fairly sure that I heard this on t.v.: The character of Edith Bunker in "All in the Family" was developed based on what God would do in each of the situations she was in.

Wow. What a concept. I watched one re-run in the middle of the night with this concept in mind and it fit like a glove. All she ever says is "Oh, Archie" when he's at his worst. She might follow up with reminding him of what a loving person would do instead of what he's doing. She does the same thing with Gloria and Mike. She just encourages and loves everybody no matter how ugly they're acting. Even when people try to run over her, she doesn't really allow it but doesn't exactly fight back either. She just returns their attempts to control her with hugs and kisses. Very interesting. Now I'm tempted to buy the DVDs so I can watch "God" in the person of Edith Bunker as conceptualized by situation comedy writers.

Love is Like War: Easy to Begin, Hard to Stop

The above is a fortune I got in a fortune cookie from Pei Wei's yesterday. Hmmm. So true. I've had that experience time and again. Particularly with falling in love and then finding out that there's something or things about the other person that are totally unacceptable but not being able to stop being in love. Extremely annoying and life changing.

Go or stay? Go or stay? Go or stay? Constant internal conflict. The only sensible solution is to go and grit one's teeth and tolerate the pain of leaving someone very much loved but not unconditionally. It's especially important to do it when being with the person is not healthy for you. It's not good for them to be with someone who finds things about them unacceptable. I think this dilemma is commonly called being "between a rock and a hard place." Sucks.

And then, of course, is the situation I'm in now where I love someone totally and he's dead. Sucks. Can't really figure out how to love someone who's dead. It seems to require his presence. I know it helps a little to send him love wherever he is, hoping that he will receive it. Notice I didn't say it helps much. At a recent women's retreat I attended, we made "God Boxes." This is a technique for "accepting the things I cannot change" from the Serenity Prayer. When you run across something painful that you cannot change, you write it down and put it in the God Box as a symbolic way to teaching yourself to allow God to work on it. I made a God Box to put messages to people who aren't able to receive my love in the usual way and let God deliver them. I don't know if this will help or not but it's worth a try.

I'm Back

I really hate these periods where I don't want to write but I know if I don't I will quit altogether because I've lost the momentum.

So.... I'm home recovering from surgery on the 10th. It went well for a change and I'm feeling okay. I got to go home less than 24 hours later which was wonderful. I'm not crazy about having to be quiet and inside for so long but I'm doing okay with it. The last time I had surgery, "Six Feet Under" was running on some cable channel and I watched most of the episodes. It was the best series I've seen in forever. I swear I'd buy DVDs of it if that was available. But this time there's absolutely nothing on tv to watch. Even Dr. Phil seems to have turned into Jerry Springer. So, I might as well give some thought to my blog.

Clean Out

Well, today was the appointed day for me to bag up Ron's clothes. I decided that I was not going to postpone it even one more time. Today is the anniversary of the wreck which makes it a good day for clearing out the closet. I've cleared out quite a few other things but the clothes? NO. Everytime I headed for the closet I had the feeling that he would not like it one bit that I gave away his clothes. Of course, what was really going on was that I still had the feeling that he would need his clothes when he came back. I know, I know, that's crazy thinking but it's just part of grief. So I postponed and postponed.

The clothes are now in bags and I will take them to the Salvation Army. Ron did a relapse prevention group for the Salvation Army for several years. These were the homeless guys that had such terrible drug and alcohol problems that they literally had no where to go. He loved those guys a lot and spent extra time with them trying to help them make the transition to the world. He would approve of giving his clothes to them.

Ron loved clothes. Sometimes that was a problem when he was broke. But as I put each item in the bags, I could tell you when he bought it, where he bought it, why he bought it and what he loved about it. Each item was chosen with care and I was usually with him when he bought it. I think it's a good thing to pay attention to what you put on your body every day. Clothes are a big part of what defines you to the world. His signature was a touch of outrageousness and his Hawaiin shirts. I still don't know what to do with the "ear cuff" he bought several years ago for the express purpose of annoying his conservative boss. He sure didn't want to pierce his ears so he just bought a silver ear cuff that he could take on and off.

He liked to buy clothes for me too and had an unerring accuracy about what would look good on me. I didn't pay much attention to clothes when we got together, but I picked up his careful attention to that part of his identity. Another gift I'm left with. I should put all my very best clothes in his now empty closet.

Is it true, Is it kind, Is it necessary?

I picked this up in a meeting the other day. It wasn't the first time I heard it but it was the first time it stuck. I thought we should all have this tatooed on the inside of our forearms where we could consult it before saying anything to anybody. Usually what I say is true. I don't lie on purpose anymore. But the "kind" part is probably something I should work on. And the "necessary?" Wow I REALLY need to work on that. I wonder if even 50% of what I say is actually necessary. I think these questions are really designed to help people stop before they "straighten somebody out." But they're applicable to communication in general.

Talent

One of the things I'm grateful for is all the talented people that live in Tulsa. I've had the opportunity to see singers, musicians of all kinds, actors and other artists over the years. I guess I thought that the only REALLY talented folks were in the movies, on t.v. or made recordings. Well, that's not true. Lots of REALLY talented people live here - and probably a lot of other places too. They just haven't had the luck or whatever to make it to the big time. Which is why I love the new reality shows that show off talent that probably wouldn't make it to the big time otherwise. I used to say that they should make t.v. shows that just gave artists no one ever heard of, the opportunity to be seen. Well, see there, they stole my idea and are making millions! (ha)

Grief

I feel like complaining today.

I've read a lot of books about grief over the years and, of course, more of them lately. And then I've also had a lot of advice about it. Some of the books have been very helpful. Some haven't. In fact, there's just a lot of crap out there about grief. "He's in a better place" is one of the things people used to say. Another one is "time heals all wounds." He may be in a better place and if so, that's good. But he's still gone from me. And "time heals all wounds" may be partially true but so what. If I'm in agony right now, the future doesn't comfort me one bit.

A couple of years ago I read a book about grief that was written by a spiritual teacher I really respect. Unfortunately his book about grief was total crap as far as I was concerned. He said his mother still existed in the universe in the form of energy so she wasn't really totally gone. That one is akin to stuff I've read more recently that people live on in the memories of the people who knew and loved them. Also, I've read that your relationship with the person just changes - you can still communicate with them - write them a letter. I'm sorry but it's just crap. Doesn't make me feel better at all!

The person I loved is not here and pretending that the energy that remains or the memories or the one-sided conversations are actually going to help is just nonsense. I can't touch the person; I can't kiss and hug the person; he or she doesn't answer when I call; he or she doesn't respond to my communication; I can't call him when I have a flat tire in another town and hear "hang on baby - papa's coming to the rescue." What has helped me in the books I've read and the people who have talked to me is the acknowledgement of the amazing pain that grief brings and the better it's described so that I can identify with it, the more it helps.

I read in one book that the agony of the longing for the other person can be just slightly alleviated by sending them your love and blessings wherever they are. That one turns out to be true for me. It doesn't take away the longing but it gives me some place to send the energy of the love I have for that person. It seems to me that a great deal of my pain consists of the inability to actively love the person I've lost. The day to day loving gestures and words have nowhere to go. Of course, I also miss the loving words and gestures that I received every day, but it is actually more painful to think of the person with love a million times a day and have no way to express it.

As I'm learning to survive the grief, I notice that I'm learning a new skill - living without someone I thought was vital to my happiness. As it turns out, the more I practice, the more I see it is possible to live without him happily - most of the time. It's like learning any new skill - hard in the beginning, easier with practice and time. One of the barriers, though, is the feeling that comes over me sometimes, that if I'm happy it means I love him less. Not true, of course, but I still have the feeling and have to talk myself out of it.

Cronehood

Having decided not to join in the cultural race to look younger via various procedures, and therefore, won't be pretending to be 50, I have to ask myself what to do with myself. It doesn't seem to me that there are many role models. I've always heard that Native Americans and Asians respect elders for their wisdom. But that doesn't seem to be true of our culture. I think that elders are considered to be out of touch and old fashioned. It would be nice to sit around and give advice and be honored for it, but I don't think that's on the menu for my cronehood.

Of course, there's the story I've heard about how Eskimos used to put their old people on ice floes to float to their deaths since they were no longer useful and still had to be fed. I worry some about this one. As we all start to live longer and longer, and our kids have to take care of us to the detriment of their kids and lives...Well, I guess they really wouldn't put us on ice floes but they might want to.

So, I will try to be as useful as I can and will keep trying until I fall over from croneness. For one thing, it's fun. Just sitting around resting is sooo boring. In my work I've had occasion to visit quite a few nursing homes where people are sitting around. It always occurs to me that these folks surely must have some skills they could use. Couldn't they fold towels, sort silverware, hang a picture or something? They would be a lot happier, the people in their lives would respect them more, and they could lighten the load for the grossly underpaid and overworked staff of nursing homes.

Obesity

I can't help but wonder about this and it's another thing I see nothing about in the media. I know fast food is partly responsible for the obesity epidemic but the thing is - everybody used to smoke! I was a 5 pack a day smoker and never weighed more than 105 lbs. When I quit, I quickly went to 160 lbs. Hmmm. Wonder how many other people had the same experience. I know, I know - there are plenty of exceptions. My mother was very overweight and she was a heavy smoker too. But still...

Stories

I'm on the other side of some of the worst of the grief, thank God. While I was in it I was so overwhelmed I couldn't put words to it. Now it seems important to try to describe what was happening to me.

First there was the constant realization - over and over- that he was gone. Not gone like he was out of town, but totally and forever gone. I would be thinking like I always did about things I wanted to tell him when he got home, and then realize that he wasn't coming home, and I wasn't going to get to tell him. It was as if I was storing up stories to tell. The were piling up and piling up until the weight of them was crushing me. Telling someone else wouldn't work because they were stories I could only tell him. I wanted to know what he would say; what he would think. There were more than 20 years of history that the stories fit in to. No one else knew the history.

Crone

I believe "crone" is the correct word for the stage of life I'm in. I'm certainly not a child. I'm not in my childbearing years. I'm not even postmenopausal since that happened about 20 years ago. Being a crone wasn't on my list of things I wanted to be when I grew up. I've been in this stage of life for over 6 years (since age 60), and I can't figure out what to do with it.

In this culture I think what I'm supposed to do is pretend I'm around 45 or 50 and get a lot of skin treatments, maybe even plastic surgery, liposuction, and hair dye. I do have the hair dye and I've given a few hours of thought to those other things. But since I'm limited on funds I have to ask myself, "what would I actually gain if I looked 15 years younger?" "Would it be worth the investment in $ and time and pain?" So....I guess that when I looked in the mirror I would see a younger-looking person. So what? Would I feel better about myself? Why? I know I'm 66. Looking younger wouldn't make me feel different. Or at least I don't think so. So... the change must be for other people. So... what if people thought I was 50? Well, that would only be people who don't know me because people who know me know I'm 66. I guess that looking 50 might be a good thing if I was looking for a job. But I already have a job.

Or, of course, there's the obvious: MEN would find me more attractive. Or they would until I took off my clothes or got under a bright light. It's kind of like wearing what we used to call "falsies." If a guy thinks you have big boobs and that's one of the reasons he was attracted to you, what happens when you take them off in his presence? Have you had a little conversation beforehand? "By the way, honey...." Or do you just let him find out on his own? Scary. I thought about that one a lot when my mother bought me my first padded bra because she felt sorry for my flatchestedness.

Okay. Am I looking for a man? No. When I think about this question, I think "what would I do with one?" We could have fun doing things together. It would be lovely to have sex enter my life again. But then there's all the rest of it. Would he expect me to do things with him that he likes but I hate? Would he expect me to sew on buttons, pick up his socks, fix his meals, change the toilet paper rolls, like his dog, etc.? I barely can do those things for myself in the condition I'm in. He might not like what I like and then I'd have to limit myself on those things - if I didn't want to annoy him. I don't know. Would I want someone who wanted me because I looked 50 instead of 66? Very scary.

Being a crone is very confusing. More on this later.

You Don't Love Me and You Never Did

This is about getting to be enough - so I'll do this one more and then quit for now and come back to it later. You Don't Love Me and You Never Did is enough for an entire blog for several years!



Now this is so lofty that I hate to even write it down, but it's what has been taught to me in 12 step programs for the past 24 years: The only solution to this dilemma is unconditional love. And, of course, unconditional love would mean perfection which none of us is capable of. But, with the help of God it's possible to move in that direction at least. What I know for sure from my experience is that when I'm focused on loving unconditionally, I forget about the "you don't love me and you never did" dilemma. For some mysterious, incredibly lofty reason, trying to love takes care of my need for love. My best guess is that my effort opens the channel between me and God and God's love fills my need.

You Don't Love Me and You Never Did

On the other hand.... if they really are doing something that proves they couldn't possibly love you - what then? How do you know for sure? You could ask somebody but they will just be guessing. Aren't there some universal rules?


Everybody has rules about love. And everybody thinks his/her rules are the same as everybody else's and are absolutely right. So, if you break their rules or they break yours, then it means you don't love them or they don't love you, right? But what if their rules are totally different from yours? Well, then I guess we must straighten them out about what the right rules are! And the best way to do that is to yell and have a fit. Wait. Maybe that's not right.

You Don't Love Me and You Never Did

Maybe instead of jumping to the conclusion that they don't love us and they never did, we could just ask for what we want and mention that if they would do it (or not do it), it would make us feel loved. Who knows - they might just do it. The trouble is - at least for me - that I react so emotionally (to an extreme), that simply asking would require a whole lot of self restraint. When suddenly completely sure that the person I love and who I thought loved me, does something that I think proves he doesn't love me, it's pretty hard to be calm and make a request. It feels like I'm dying and must defend myself from death!

Reasoning with me doesn't usually help much although Ron used to sidle up to me and say, "Hey, remember me? I'm Ron. And I'm on your side." Sometimes that helped. But my insane mind sometimes told me he was just trying to pull the wool over my eyes because he didn't want me to know he didn't love me anymore.

You Don't Love Me and You Never Did

A long time ago when my dear friend, Brad, was still alive, I called him and he answered the phone in a terribly grumpy voice. I said that I didn't do anything so why was he mad at me? He said he was sorry - that he had been arguing with his mother. I asked what they were arguing about. "It started with the temperature to set the air conditioner on and ended with you don't love me and you never did," he explained. I've never forgotten that because it summed up every argument I ever had with someone I loved. It might sum up every argument anyone ever has with someone they love.

If you really loved me, you would set the air conditioner on the temperature I want.
If you really loved me, you would be on time.
If you really loved me, you would understand when I'm late.
If you really loved me, you would hug me when I want you to.
If you really loved me, you would not bug me to hug you.
If you really loved me, you would wear what I want you to.
If you really loved me, you would lose weight.
If you really loved me, you would pick up your socks.
If you really loved me, YOU would pick up MY socks.
If you really loved me, you would spend less money.
If you really loved me, you would spend more money (on me).
If you really loved me, you would have sex when I want to.
If you really loved me, you wouldn't talk to people of the opposite sex like that.
If you really loved me, you would understand when I don't want to have sex.
If you really loved me, you would put me before the kids.
If you really loved me, you would understand when I have to put the kids first.
If you really loved me, you would stop drinking, gambling, whatever.
If you really loved me, you would understand why I don't stop whatever and you would get off my back.

Flowers

When I was a kid one of the things I loved was my mother's habit of growing old-fashioned flowers in the summer. We had whole gardens of zinnias, marigolds (large and dwarf), salvia, petunias, snap dragons and others that I can't remember names for. Every few days she picked a huge bunch and arranged them in a turquoise glass bowl which sat on the dining room table. I thought we were very sophisticated for having those flowers on the table at dinner. I sometimes grew my own garden of flowers and picked some of them for the table.

When I stopped smoking more than 20 years ago, I was smoking about 5 packs a day, which cost around $150 a month. It would be a whole lot more now. I promised myself that I would never lack for expensive perfume or fresh flowers as long as I lived. If I could somehow find the money for cigarettes as broke as I was at the time, I could surely always find the money for things that smelled a whole lot better. I've kept the promise to have perfume I wanted, but only partially kept the fresh flowers promise. Sometimes I had them; sometimes I didn't. Usually I just bought something at the grocery store.

However, recently it occured to me that I could take a vase to my favorite florist (a little vase) and ask them to do an arrangement and pick it up later. Somehow having flowers all the time nourishes my soul. So I tried it and I love it as much as I thought I would. They always ask me what kind of flowers I want and how I want them arranged. I always tell them they're the ones with the talent, so they should use their best judgment. I get the most amazing bouquets for not very much money - around $25 a week which is a while lot less than I was spending on cigarettes 20 plus years ago!

Right now I have two amazing bouquets - one I got for $5.00 at the farmer's market. It's a huge bunch of zinnias (red ones mostly) and marigolds. The other one came from the florist. It's sunflowers, poppies (orange and purple), and various other ones that I'm unacquainted with - mostly maroon, plus of course, various other things that look like wild flowers. My soul is definitely nourished this week.