Can't Cut the Rope

My friend, Susan, is moving.  Yesterday, I took my truck to her house to help her deliver a few items she was giving away.  She had four young men helping to load and unload.  A huge shelf was loaded onto my truck.  I had rope in the truck for tying items down.  The truck always has rope in the bed.  One of the young men tied a knot so tight that it was almost impossible to untie.  It was suggested that the rope be cut and I nearly hyperventilated.

"It's just rope.  Cut it."
Then, sensing my reluctance (major understatement),
" I'll buy you new rope."
They had no idea how close I was to passing out!

Are you OK?

Yesterday, was Rudy's 1 year gone  "angelversary" (as Sharon C. puts it).  I decided spend the day on my own, incommunicado.   If I had talked to a bunch of people, they all would have done the, "Are you OK?" thing (because that's what we ALL do, right?). When I answer that question a number of times, after a bit, I'm not OK because each time I answer, I think about my situation too much.

To answer the question, I am both OK and NOT OK. I'm sad and missing Rudy like crazy EVERY SINGLE DAY, but dealing with it very well and spending time with friends and focusing on the good things in my life.  It is what it is.  * Rudy's gone. I'm still here.  We are not supposed to waste our lives, so I will figure out how to make the best of it.  

I worked outside most of the day. It was truly the best way to handle the day.  I dug up and moved an overgrown border of monkey grass. (NO MORE MONKEY GRASS BED BORDERS NEAR THE HOUSE!) I had to work on it in sessions.  Whew!  It's much easier to dig and separate if the ground is damp.  The ground was a bit dry, so I watered it well and waited.  I had to repeat the watering a number of times in order to get all of those stubborn clumps out of the ground.

In between sessions of monkey grass digging, I mowed a bit of grass.  After finishing a couple of sections, I parked the mower in front of the house to run in and get my good earphones.  When I came back out, it wouldn't crank.  It just makes a sad clicking noise.  The battery.  Shoot.  

What to do?  I was determined to deal with it on my own.  The mower doesn't need to stay in front of the steps.  It was too heavy to push myself.  I could move it a few inches at best.  Think.  What would Rudy do?  He'd pull it with the tractor, but the tractor is gone.  I didn't want to use the truck.  I wondered if the John Deere mower would pull it.  The Skag mower is heavier than the John Deere, but it was worth a try.  I found Rudy's heavy duty chain and connected the two mowers.  It was slow going and a strain on my sweet John Deere, but I finally got it moved to a section of driveway where it could be worked on easily.  

Unfortunately, the move left some tracks in the yard.  They aren't as bad as they look.  Mostly, it's a trail of broken grass and the next time I mow, it shouldn't be too noticeable.  

I still have lots of yard work to do around the house - especially trimming bushes.  Some of the bushes will have to wait.  I discovered a nesting mama bird in one of them!!!

Happy Mother's Day!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* Actually, Rudy is not completely gone.  I feel certain he's still hanging around because of all the crazy signs I keep getting that are often too spot on to be coincidental.  I still talk to him and I can practically hear what he'd have to say about most everything.  

One Year Without Rudy - Happy Memories Are Best

Rudy died one year ago - May 7th at 9:15 am.  I have tried to write this post over and over.  I write, delete, and repeat the next day.  Nothing I write seems good enough.  The 11 month post was hard.  I thought maybe if I worked on the one year post over the course of the month, it wouldn't be so bad.  It didn't help.  It's difficult because I keep thinking of this time last year and it was all pretty horrible.

I'm taking the pressure off myself and won't post a tribute to Rudy.  Instead, I will write about two miscellaneous things on my mind - one serious and one funny.

The serious point I want to make is for anyone who is grieving or anyone with sad memories.  The thing that has served me best (kept me from losing my mind) this whole year has been to push away bad memories.  I recently learned the newest grief research backs me on this.

My favorite widow book so far, Saturday Night Widows,  explained that grief is similar to post-traumatic stress disorder.

"It used to be that trauma victims were encouraged to talk about the events that had triggered their condition, to get it out of their systems." Recent studies have shown "talking about trauma, or even thinking about it too much, can reinforce disturbing memories."  

From the start, I didn't want to dwell on the awful things Rudy had to go through or how awful that made me feel or how wrong life is without Rudy.  Remembering horrific times is nothing but self-torture.  I wanted to focus on the good times.  The good memories are the ones I need to reinforce!  Maybe that's one of the reasons these "anniversary posts" are so hard.  They are reminders of bad times.

Stopping the negative thoughts that pop into my head is not easy.  Bad experiences have a way of searing into your brain, don't they?  During the last 6-1/2 months of Rudy's life, he suffered one awful thing after another.  As soon as I realize I'm thinking about those bad times, I remind myself those memories are not helpful and Rudy would not want them to define his life.  I make myself picture Rudy looking happy.  Rudy would want to be remembered for the happy times!!!

Now for the funny part...  John Prine was one of Rudy's favorite musicians.  On more than one occasion (long before Rudy got sick), he told me and his sister, Nancy, he'd like John Prine's song, Please Don't Bury Me,  played at his funeral.   We'd all laugh as we imagined what the reaction would be.   When it came time to choose the music for Rudy's "Celebration of Life Party", Nancy thought we should honor Rudy's request and play this song.  His sister, Linda, was not in favor, to say the least.  If I had thought for a minute that Rudy had been serious, I would have insisted on it being played, but I knew he had been joking.  Also, he had said on a number of occasions, the most important thing at a funeral was to do whatever might comfort those who were grieving.  Playing this song would not have comforted Linda and might have shocked a few others as well!  We found other songs to play that ended up being perfect.  I think this one year anniversary might be a good time to present the crazy John Prine song.  It's a bit irreverent and perfectly captures Rudy's warped sense of humor.  He'd like nothing better than to be remembered with a smile!  But darn it, I'm crying as I write that.  I sure do miss him and his sense of fun.   I can't imagine ever again having as much fun as I did with him.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow is a Heart

In yesterday's post, I described a rainbow incident that happened around a year and a half ago.  Here's what I wrote - I attempted to find a good photo of Rudy for the DURING time period, but they all made me cry, even the ones where he was smiling.  This photo was taken Nov 23, 2014.  Rudy was at home, sick as could be.  I was on my way home, I think from the pharmacy picking up yet another unit-nausea medication.  I was losing my mind and in the midst of a really good cry.  Suddenly,  I saw a rainbow.  It was fabulous.  I stopped and took some photos of it but the rainbow wouldn't show up at all in any of them.  None. I kept snapping over and over trying to get it to show up.   What did that mean?  I was sure it meant something.  Looking back, maybe it meant I was seeing hope when there was absolutely no hope at all.  The invisible rainbow experience did help me that day.  I become so preoccupied with the oddness of it that it put an end to my meltdown.  I pulled myself back together and was able to go back home and focus on what needed to be done.  It's heartbreaking to think how sick he was that week.  That was definitely one of the worst weeks of his illness.

Here's the photo of the rainbow that wouldn't show up -

Every time I looked through the missing rainbow photos, my focus was always on looking at the sky for any shadows that might have been a bit of the rainbow.  There's something in the photo I completely missed.

My friend Shirley commented on it on my Facebook page.  She saw it right away.  It's a cloud shaped like a heart. 

The crazy thing is, ever since Rudy died, she and I have seen a ton of heart clouds.  Shirley sends me photos of them from all over - in Georgia, South Carolina, Canada, and even New Zealand. Shirley gets around!  She sees them while she's in boats or cars or planes, or just walking about.  I see them, too.  You may think us crazy, but they always seem to be signs from Rudy.  They seem to appear when I'm having a low moment.  I find it interesting that we never saw this heart til now.

Here's one I saw in January -

I especially love when the heart cloud is the only cloud in the sky.

Here's a heart photo from Shirley. It seems to have two hearts, actually. She's sent me a couple of others that are even more spectacular and I can't find them on my computer. Daring.  I've been organizing photos lately, but still have a ways to go.  I used to be known for my organizational skills, but I seem to have blown my reputation since retiring.  

I also have been finding feathers.  I usually find them when I'm walking the dogs.  I never find them when I'm with my dad.  I only find them when it's just me and I'm usually deep in thought.  I've been keeping them for the last few months and have them on display in a pretty glass jar.  

One day as I was walking, I pondered these "signs".  My first thought, when I get a sign, is usually that I'm so sure it was a sign from Rudy, but my second thought is often skepticism.   I just reading into it what I want to see.  I have a good imagination, but I also have a very realistic side.   

One day recently, I let myself think about the possibility that it was real.  So many miraculous things happen here on earth.  There's more to life than we could possibly know.  So how would it work if Rudy wanted to send me a little comfort?   It seems like it would be pretty easy to send a cloud sign.  One cloud could be seen from many vantage points.  I could be most anywhere on my property and appreciate a cloud.  Plus, if need be,  a cloud could be blown here or there for better viewing.  

A feather would be harder.  First, a bird would have to be in some sort of distress to lose that feather.  It would fall in a particular spot on the ground and trickiest of all, I would have to go to that exact spot and look down just in time to see the feather.  When I walk with my dad, we almost always walk the fence path.  Same path every day.  But, I never find feathers when I'm walking with him, at least not yet.  When it's just me, I vary my route. I wander around.  I cut through and across and explore the property.  We have 12 fenced acres to walk and I cover it all.  What direction I head is mostly based on whims.  So, if Rudy is putting a feather out for me to find, how would he know where to put it?  A few weeks ago, I was pondering this.  It occurred to me that maybe my whims were not my own.  Maybe Rudy guided me.  I thought to myself, right now I might just head over to here, so did Rudy put that thought in my head?  Then a crazy thing happened.  As soon as I finished that thought and headed in that new direction, I took 4 steps and there was a feather. So I ask you, is this just a coincidence?   I think not.  You can believe whatever you want to believe.  I'm certain Rudy is with me.  Often.  And whenever I have doubts, he convinces me it's real.

By the way, I hear Rudy in my head all the time.  I can hear what he'd say about lots of things.  It's not always good.  He still complains when I use my left foot on the brake.  He was never a fan of my driving.  

Eleven Months - Before, During and After

While organizing and cleaning out photos on my computer, I have realized my adult life seems to now be divided into three eras - before, during, and after Rudy's cancer.

When illness is involved, I think there is a third - DURING.

BEFORE.   Lung cancer apparently takes a long time to show symptoms, so when I see photos of Rudy from anytime before 2014, I wonder, Did he have a tumor then?  Was he at stage 1 or 2 or 3?  Could he have been cured if it was discovered then? His face looks a bit tired in that photo.  Why didn't I notice and send him to a doctor?  The answer to that last one is that he was working really long hours and his tired look was easy to attribute to the fact that he had every reason to be tired. I wonder too, how I could have been preoccupied with mundane things and not realize that time was running out for happiness.  How could I have acted like it would last forever?  When I catch myself second guessing about the past, I try to think about something else.  Second guessing is a sure road to insanity.  I might actually be close to that destination right now.  I'm hoping to head in a different direction, but there doesn't seem to be a map. Also of note, all of these questions are stupid.  Of course I had no way of knowing what was in store.  We were both just living normal lives.  A normal life doesn't include foreseeing doom or worrying about what awful thing may happen.  That's no way to live.  But in grief, my questions don't have to be smart, nor do they need to make sense.  

Taken July 29, 2014.  Our world would crash less than two months after this photo was taken.  Ignorance was bliss.

DURING.  The Facebook newsfeed now picks random posts from a year before to show on your newsfeed.  That's fine if the previous year was happy.  It's not fine when it was a nightmare.  Can that feature be turned off?  I don't want to be reminded.  (Actually, It can't exactly be turned off, but you can block date ranges and people! I blocked about 2 years!) One popped up today showing a post I had shared last April about the joys of blowing bubbles.  Luckily, it wasn't a photo showing Rudy sick with a month left to live.  Still, a post about bubbles???  How silly.   I know exactly what was going through my head.  I tried so hard to look for joy while Rudy was sick.  I was so determined to be positive for him, as if that were incredibly important.  I wanted to make his time as pleasant as possible.  I didn't think he needed to see me falling apart.  (I fell apart privately. I wonder if he ever knew how often I did that.)   I wish I'd talked more to him about the deep stuff. I wish I hadn't hidden so many of my feelings. That's a huge regret.  We did have some deep conversations.  Those were the ones I value most.  Why didn't we do it more? Truthfully, he couldn't talk for long, especially in the last months.  It would bring on a bout of nausea.  Also, I never wanted to be the one to bring up the heavy stuff.  I waited for signs he wanted to talk.  He was probably not wanting to burden me.  Huge regret.  Huge.  Thoughts like this are yet another road to insanity.  Apparently, all my roads lead there.

I attempted to find a good photo of Rudy for the DURING time period, but they all made me cry, even the ones where he was smiling.  This photo was taken Nov 23, 2014.  Rudy was at home, sick as could be.  I was on my way home, I think from the pharmacy picking up yet another unit-nausea medication.  I was losing my mind and in the midst of a really good cry.  Suddenly,  I saw a rainbow.  It was fabulous.  I stopped and took some photos of it but the rainbow wouldn't show up at all in any of them.  None. I kept snapping over and over trying to get it to show up.   What did that mean?  I was sure it meant something.  Looking back, maybe it meant I was seeing hope when there was absolutely no hope at all.  The invisible rainbow experience did help me that day.  I become so preoccupied with the oddness of it that it put an end to my meltdown.  I pulled myself back together and was able to go back home and focus on what needed to be done.  It's heartbreaking to think how sick he was that week.  That was definitely one of the worst weeks of his illness.

AFTER.   I have gone through so many phases of grief in the 11 months since he died.  I have tried to be positive and to know that one day I will feel alive again.  I understand that grief is a series of highs and lows.  I've heard that the highs and lows are extreme at first, but slowly the waves become less drastic.  As you can probably tell from this post, I'm feeling a little out of sorts these days.  I don't want anyone to worry.  I know I'll perk up.  There's not a thing anyone can do to help.  I don't need to be taken off and distracted.  This has nothing to do with boredom.  I'm not bored by any means!  I just need to work through these emotions.  I'm a bit reluctant to talk about it, but I'm going to do it for the widows who read my page.  These monthly grief posts seem to help other widows feel less alone. There are other widowed bloggers that have written posts that helped me.  I'm paying it forward.

What does this low feel like?  Here's what I'm feeling.  It's emotion based, rather than sensible. I hope it's not the truth, but it feels true right now.    It feels like real life is over for me.  Rudy was the love of my life and there's not likely to be another.  I will be left living a half life and entertaining myself as best I can for the rest of my days, without any one person to confide in.  I will never again be happy-go-lucky.  I will never again be able to casually say goodbye to anyone without wondering if there will be some catastrophe before we see each other again.  There have been too many deaths and serious illnesses in the last year to people I know - of all ages.  I've been shaken over and over (I have even fallen apart over people I'd never actually met who died unexpectedly - friends of friends.)  My negative thoughts really need to be snuffed out.

The line from Joni Mitchell's song is so true -You don't know what you've got till it's gone.  So much is gone from my life without Rudy.  Lately, I've been thinking about how it felt to be carefree and think my life would most likely be about the same tomorrow as it was today.  I've been thinking about how it felt to make plans and set goals with a reasonable certainty that I could make it happen. That there will be more time with the people I love.  We all know that one day, people we love will pass.  We know in our heads that for some, it could possibly be an early, unexpected death, but we tell ourselves the people we love most won't pass until they have lived a good long life.  But once a person loses someone really dear to an untimely death, I don't think it's possible to live carefree again.  I could be wrong.  Maybe I'll get over that weighty feeling.  I try.  The worry is exhausting.  But, this isn't my first experience with untimely deaths.  In the past, I came back from that fear over time (it takes years).   I doubt I'll get over it this time.  On the other hand, maybe I'll give up the worry completely and learn to throw caution to the wind and accept that I can't control a darned thing in life.  I might as well get on with life with a screw-it attitude and have some fun.  That's my be-fearless pep talk.  It's what Rudy would say, only his language would be a bit more colorful. Sometimes, this pep talk actually works for me.

Here's a weird little thing.  You might think I'm crazy for even thinking about it.  I'm not into palm reading, but many years ago, I learned a tiny bit about it.  Enough to identify a few lines on my hand.  Not much more.  I remember looking at my lifeline and wondering about it.  It's long, but there is a big gap in it.  The line virtually disappears for a little over a quarter of an inch.  I remember thinking that I really didn't want to hear what anyone had to say about that because it sure didn't seem like it would be a happy thing.  Maybe there's something to palm reading because I must be right smack in the midst of that gap.  It makes sense.  I am missing right now.  Not really living.  I go through the motions.  I laugh and have adventures with friends.  Stay busy.   I look normal, act normal, and function really well considering.  But I am not really present.  I seem to be observing myself, rather than being myself.  I'm a Stepford widow.  I'm faking it till I make it. The life line does reappear and actually looks really great on the other side of the gap.  Hopefully, that means I'll find myself eventually.  It's just hard to picture it right now.

So.  This is a real downer post, isn't it?  But I'm a positive person, dammit, so let me end with happier things.

One thing that saves me during the worst of my alone times is Netflix and Amazon Prime.  I should write them a thank you note.  I don't even watch regular TV or cable anymore.  When I am feeling too low, I can turn on whatever series I'm working through and it takes me away... without commercials.   My latest series has been Call the Midwife.  It was really good.  I also watch about everything put out by BBC and/or PBS.  I've gone through a number of series in the last year.  Some of my other favs - The Good Wife, Grace and Frankie (season 2 premieres May 5th!), and surprisingly for me, Orange is the New Black.  That last one is crazy.  Can't believe I watched it. It's so unlike my normal viewing preferences.  It has put me on the straight and narrow and I'm determined to stay out of prison, but should I ever go (for a crime I obviously did not commit) I would stay safe by helping the ladies write parole letters and coaching them on what to say at their hearings.  Apparently, you need a skill or a commodity to survive in prison!   Can you tell I spent some time working this all out (just in case I go completely nuts and take up a life of crime)?

I have all sorts of projects going on around the house.  The biggest projects involve landscaping and painting.  There are plenty of things that need to be attended to.  I know I'll feel much better once these things have been taken care of.  I have to keep this house up until I move to my little dream cottage.

I'm considering some big changes to this area at the side of the house. - much more involved than just trimming bushes (which is what I'm doing in this photo).   And by the way, that 3 ft star on the porch is coming down.  I need a change.

Freaky Widow Statistics and Building a Tribe

I just read an interesting article  geared to widows.  The article led with some statistics I find mind boggling.  According to the US Census, half of women over the age of 65 are widows.    HALF?  Are you kidding me?    Also significant, only 8% of widows in the 55 to 64 age range remarry.  Only 2% widowed over the age of 65 remarry.  Those stats set the stage for the main point of the article.  Widows of a certain age may not find romance, but we can still have a good life.

The article didn't focus on widows lamenting the loss of romance.  Instead, it talked about how many widows were instead finding incredible new interests and having loads of fun with friends.  There is a trend for widows to band together and have loads of fun.  They travel together.  Sometimes they share housing or live close by so that they can watch out for each other.  The article called them tribes of widows.  I like that!  It's usually a group of at least 3 or 4 good friends with a "shared sense of loss that often only other widows can understand."

Many widows don't even want to remarry.  I'm well aware of that point of view from reading so many widow blogs. They had a wonderful life with their husbands and since finding anyone half as good is next to impossible, they made the most of the freedom of living on their own.  One widow in the article made an interesting point, saying, "Marriage is a much better deal for men." That made me laugh.

You may be wondering how I feel about this whole subject on a more personal note...   Frankly, I can't even imagine dating and going through that whole tedious process.   I may find some fellows to hang out with as friends, but it seems pointless for me to worry about dating and possibly remarrying.  I'm not ruling it out (I've learned to never say never), but I'm not going to spend any energy being concerned or sad about it.

Instead, I think I'll focus on building my tribe and finding fun things to do, just like the article describes.  I really like that idea.  There's no reason this next chapter has to be dull.  I think with time, I will likely come to appreciate the benefits of living on my own.  There are pros and cons in any situation and since I'm now living on my own, I might as well figure out what makes that a good thing.  You know the drill - If life gives you lemons, make lemonade...

I would even welcome widowers to my tribe (as friends).  Ladies are much better at dealing with loneliness.  We band together with friends to get through it.  Widowers usually get scooped up (really fast - within the first year!) by single ladies bearing casseroles.   I wouldn't win any points for my casseroles, so  if I were trying to catch some vulnerable widower, this strategy would never work for me.    If guys don't choose to remarry, they often stay by themselves a bit more than is healthy.  They, too, could benefit from being part of a tribe.

You know, as I think on it, I already belong to a number of different tribes.  I get together with friends from high school and college, teacher friends, neighbors, family... I could stay really busy.  And yet, most of my friends are married.  I clearly need one more tribe - a tribe of widows.  The thing is, this is a tribe I don't wish any of my current friends to join.  I hope they won't be widowed for a long, long time.

I have so much fun with the friends I have now!

I refuse to end this post on a sad note.  So, here's something more - finding a tribe is just part of the equation. Finding interesting things to do is also important.  There are a number of activities I already do with friends - eating out, seeing shows, and my new fav, hiking...  But I want to expand that list.  I need more.  I just haven't figured out what.

If you see me trying out some odd things in the future, you'll know I'm just experimenting.  Since I no longer care for things I used to like, it seems logical that I might like things I was never interested in before.  Right?

Birthday Blues

Rudy would have turned 63 tomorrow.  I have been pondering the upcoming birthday for days.  Just as with all my memories of Rudy, my emotions are mixed, all over the place really.

I have photos of him scattered around the house.  I know they are all there and they mostly make me smile.  A couple of days ago, I found myself focusing on one unexpectedly.  A wave of feeling hit me.  The photo isn't that old.  He looks so healthy.  How could he possibly be gone?  That whole feeling is one I continue to struggle with.

I try to remind myself to focus on how lucky I was to have had him in my life as long as I did.  He was fun.  He took my breath away.  He made me cuss.  He made me laugh.  He was never dull.  I was never bored.  My life feels way too quiet now.  It's hard to get used to.

Rudy wasn't big on birthdays.  I threw him a few parties in our early years.  He finally made me promise not to do that anymore.  The photo below is from 1979.  Obviously, the party was a surprise.  Look how poor Rudy is dressed.  He'd been working all day and was tired and filthy.  Why did I think this was a good idea?  The guy in the white suit was from Eastern Onion.  He delivered a bizarre and embarrassing singing telegram.  I have no idea why I thought that was a good idea, either.  Apparently, I was just full of good ideas back then.  You can't tell from this photo, but there was a pretty good crowd of friends there, as well.

With time the parties ended and so did the whole gift thing.  If Rudy ever needed anything, he preferred to buy it.  He always knew exactly what he needed and wanted.  That worked fine for me, too.   We finally realized neither of us were big on surprises.

There was one thing, though, that Rudy always looked forward to on his birthday.  His sister, Nancy, would make him a birthday cake.  It was always topped with homemade chocolate icing.  The recipe was one that has been passed down through the family.  We know it as Mommy Effie's Chocolate Icing.  Mommy Effie was Rudy's wonderful grandmother.

The icing is a bit persnickety.  It requires the perfect temperature and time.  Humidity comes into play as well.  There's an art to it.  Sometimes, it turns out a bit runny.  Sometimes it hardens too much and is like fudge.  Nancy seems to have a knack for it, but with such variables the iced cake wasn't always photo worthy.  If anything, that made the whole experience more fun.  It never mattered anyway, because regardless of how it looked, it was always incredibly delicious.  There's nothing like homemade!

Nancy would bring the cake over and it would always have a big piece missing from it.  My brother-in-law, Mike, was the official taste tester.  He'd make sure it was good before Nancy packed it up.  I can't believe I never took a photo of one of those cakes.  I didn't realize that those cakes would be at the center of such treasured memories.  There's a lot I didn't realize, actually.

Effie’s Chocolate Frosting

• 2 cups sugar
• ¼ cup cocoa
• pinch salt
• 1 stick butter
• 2/3 cup milk
• 2 tsp vanilla

1. Combine sugar, cocoa, and salt in iron skillet.
2. Melt butter.  Add milk.
3. When it begins to boil, add vanilla.
4. Stir constantly!  Boil for 2 ½ to 3 minutes.  
5. Let cool and frost.

Tip –

If it boils too little, it’ll be runny; too long and it’ll turn to fudge.

To test, drip a spoonful on plate.  If it gets hard quickly, it’s done.

UPDATE:  While cleaning out photo folders on my computer, I came across a photo of one of the cakes Nancy made for Rudy.  This is from 2009.

9 Months Without Rudy

I have written this post at least 4 times now. Each time, I wrote from the heart and then erased it.

Whenever I think what I have to say would be helpful to other widows, I quickly shoot it down.   I'm muddling through.  I haven't found the magic widow survival keys.  Some days I'm proud of the way I'm trying to live.  Many days I just go through the motions.  Some days I look into the future and feel hopeful.  Many days I look into the future and feel incredibly sad.  I don't know what I'm doing, but I keep trying and that's something.

So, to sum up how I'm doing at 9 months  - I miss Rudy like crazy.  I feel alone even in a crowd.   I keep pedaling, but can't seem to get anywhere because I'm on a stationary bike.

I can't decide if I'm wasting my life right now or taking a much needed pause.   I'm staying active, but holding back from real life.  That description probably doesn't make sense to anyone but me.  I'm happy something makes sense to me, because nothing much does right now.  If that's confusing, it's probably because the writer (me) is seriously confused.

8 Months Without Rudy

Tomorrow will be eight months since Rudy died.  Sometimes I think I talk to him more now than even when he's alive.  Yes, it's possible I'm losing my mind.  I can call on him anytime, day or night.  I can chat with him in the middle of the night.  I can even chat with him now during a Braves game. He's never once complained.  (He'd laugh at that.) Anytime something significant happens, I can almost hear him chiming in.  Sometimes, his brother Jimmy throws in his opinion as well.  I can count on both of them to have a unique, humorous, and no-nonsense opinion on everything.  They have been particularly helpful anytime I've made a mistake or felt stressed.  Both of them knew exactly how to deal with drama.  They were drama geniuses!

Sometimes, I get very unique signs from Rudy.  They usually happen in a way that's a bit hard to deny.  This morning while on my morning walk, I was thinking about some recent goings-on in my life and what Rudy would make of them.  I knew exactly what he'd say about them.  It was definitely a time when I felt he was speaking to me.  Jimmy was throwing in his two cents worth, too.  Suddenly, I wondered if there might be a heart cloud in the sky.  I looked up and this is what I saw -

This photo has not been retouched in any way whatsoever!

One cloud in the sky and it was a heart.  It was my friend, Shirley, who started this whole heart cloud thing.  Right after Rudy died, she suddenly started seeing heart clouds everywhere.  Many times, it would be the only cloud in the sky, like the one I saw this morning.  She sent me photos of her sightings, almost one a week.  Now, I'm seeing them often, too.

I still get a feeling sometimes, that surely this whole thing never happened. Rudy can't be gone.  He was just here and he was so strong and healthy. It's a weird sensation and it doesn't only occur when I first wake up.  Sometimes I get the feeling in the middle of the day when I'm good and alert.  It would be so great if this were just a long nightmare.  You know, if it were a nightmare, there are so many things I'd do differently.  The very first thing I would do is give him the biggest, longest hug ever.

He was so amazing.  I was lucky to have had him as long as I did.  I wish I'd been lucky enough to have had him another two or three decades.

Goodbye 2015

I did not like this year.   It was hard.  It was painful.  Still, many of the days were precious, so I stop short of wishing the year would disappear from my memory.

Nothing is all bad.  Every single day, even the worst of days, there were things to be thankful for, things to bring joy.  I looked hard for these things every day.  That felt important.  It still does.

I had two roads to choose. Every person faced with adversity has that choice. I was chose to survive and make every day count. I chose to have faith that I am here for a reason.  I chose to believe that alongside the sadness, there are incredible possibilities.

Many people will pause today to think over their past year and ponder their highs and lows and accomplishments.  I find little satisfaction in that.  I don't even know what emotions I'll be hit with tonight when the new year is rung in.  Apparently, I'm struggling with some of those even now. I hope by this evening I will be busy with something light and fun rather than thinking so much.  I'm really tired of struggling with emotions.  I'd like to request a break.  I've earned it.

The person I was at the beginning of this year is gone.  I'm somebody different and I seem to keep changing. I often feel I don't know myself anymore, but I really like my new self.  I am one smart cookie (and ever so humble)!

Goodbye, 2015. You stole from me and turned my life upside down and inside out.

Hello 2016.  
You'll take me someplace I've never been before.  I'm ready.

Love this quote, but the teacher in me noticed something amiss.
There's a typo in the web address.  I feel for them.
I imagine whoever created it had a really trying year,
so typos are to be understood.  I hope they get their wish.

Becoming Fierce

I'm becoming fierce!  When my husband died, my life fell apart and all the plans we'd made crumbled. I had no choice but to quickly start figuring out how to live the rest of my life.  Life is unpredictable.  My life might end tomorrow.  I might live to be 100.  I want whatever time I have left to be good. All of it.  Even NOW, in the midst of grieving.  Life should not be put off for someday.

I've come up with five resolutions to help me become fierce.   All I need to do is raise one finger at a time to remind myself of them all.

Little Finger - Have a Little Fun Every Day, More if Possible
I'll make the best of every chance I have to connect with true friends and family for a bit of fun!  Maybe our work ethic lessons were wrong.  Maybe we should have fun first and work during whatever time is left.

Ring Finger - Push Myself
It's really hard to raise the ring finger on its own, but give it a push and it goes right up.  I will push myself.  I will do more, expect more, and dream bigger.

Middle Finger - Eliminate or Reduce What Doesn't Bring Me Joy
This one is all about telling a few things in my life to GET LOST.  I will look for ways to do less of what is not fun or beneficial.  I'll spend less time on social media.  The old bit, if a little is good, more is better, does NOT apply to social media!  I'll get serious about reducing clutter. I'll spend less time with people who are toxic, negative, or enjoy drama.  I won't accept being mistreated or belittled.   What's left will lead to a more joyful life of substance.   In my old life, I never would have posted a photo of my hand in this position.   The gesture may be crude, but it makes it easy to remember this resolution!  

Pointer Finger - Take Care of Myself First
Taking care of myself is my number one priority.   In order to do all the things I need to do, I need to be in the best shape possible. I can't afford to be sick or weak.   I have no back up. No matter how many people love me and offer to help me out, in the end, there's truly only one person I can depend on  - MYSELF.  I will eat right, exercise, rest, be happy, reduce stress...   I will look out for my health, safety and well-being.  I will be strong.

Thumb - Trust Myself Completely.  I'm Good.
I'll ask for advice when I need it, but I will make my own decisions.  I'm the only one who truly understands my situation and circumstances.  I don't need confirmation or approval. I'm good on my own.  I'm not seeking companionship.  I need time to become strong on my own.    My life can never again be what it was with Rudy.  I plan to make a new life with the new person I'm becoming.


The more I practice these resolutions, the more fierce I will become.

Holiday Decor, Courtesy of God

It's December.  So many people have already pulled out their holiday decorations.  I have looked at my decorations a time or two.  I've pulled things out of storage and put them back away.  They make me sad.  Pity Party, table for one please.  NO, no, no!  That's not how I want to spend the month.  That's not how I want to spend my life.  Find me a happy table, please - a big one with plenty of room for the people I love!

Today, miraculously, I think I found my holiday survival trick.  It doesn't require unpacking any holiday decor at all.   It involves stepping outside and paying closer attention to what's around me.

I try to walk at least once every day.  I tend to get lost in thought and I'm sure I walk past amazing displays, like the leaves in the photo above.  Those leaves were on the ground, just waiting for someone to notice the amazing colors, the shiney spots where the lights hit, and the crunchy sound as you walk through them.  This month, I'm going to try to be more in tune with my surroundings and take time to appreciate the beauty around me.  I'll leave the decorating to God.

I'm so thankful this idea came to me.  It has given me an unexpected and happy way to celebrate the season.  I feel sure the idea wasn't mine.  The inspiration came from above.