If I could tell him about my year, what would I say?*

 Dear Mark,

     Here is a quick month-by-month rundown of what 2023 looked like for me.

I wish I knew how this whole "swimming through grief" thing is done.

January - Made a nice meal which none of our kids showed up to, resolved to never cook ham balls again, met Deb for a beer, paid Texas State, got bad advice from Spencer about a repair for my car (which I ignored), had a bout of gastritis, got a mammo, celebrated Spencer's birthday, dropped off my car for major repair, took a week off for a big ice storm that damaged our trees, cried and drank, thought about you on your birthday, as always.

February - Called my mother on the regular, picked up items she said she needed (thread, sewing machine bulb, ironing board cover), took fallen limbs to the curb, paid Texas State, picked Deb up for a wine club pick-up, took a load of crap to Goodwill, cleaned at mom's, cried, worked on my back yard, saw the dentist, went to Highlands, let Dylan move back home.

March - Called Mother on her birthday, the internet went out because of squirrel chewing, replaced the water filters, has an asthma attack for the first time in my life, ordered curtain rods, paid Texas State, blogged, put new tires on the truck, bought Mom a rosebush and made her a pie, got an oil change, had a well-woman visit, met new friends at Circle Brewing (which has since closed), cried, posted your eulogy on this blog, cleaned the garage again, saw a dermatologist.

April - did more yard work, paid Texas State, checked on Highlands, make a crockpot full of food for Easter and no one showed up so I met a friend and her mother for a beer, had my last day at DCMC during a stressful week at work, cried, started at the new hospital, put out bulky trash for collection,  cancelled the wine club, got a haircut, ate lunch out with my new team, cleaned out my kitchen cabinets, donated more crap, started working weekends.

May - made lists then didn't do the things on the lists, mulched the front landscaping, picked up wines at Perissos, started taking call every Wednesday, cleaned my oven, Mom had a breast biopsy and repeat mammo (its cancer), paid Texas State, took yet another load of crap to Goodwill, took my jewelry to JA to be cleaned, cried, threw out all of your shoe polish, steam cleaned the carpets, refinished the kitchen cabinets, called the handyman for Highlands, worked Memorial Day, had an eye exam, our kids forgot Mother's Day.

June - Ordered new protectors for my phone as I keep dropping it, refinished the coffee tables, started weekly mowing and edging, cried, cleaned out two gutters, shredded a bunch of paperwork, sent money to Grayson, tried to fix the ceiling fans, called the tile guy, went to Highlands with Dylan to oversee pipe repair by a really weird handyman, found a realtor to list Highlands, scrubbed and sealed the deck, saw my mother, paid the trailer tags, sold Highlands/canoe/trailer, got my labs drawn, replaced my landscape lights, took extra call, got Mom's echo results, got in trouble with Chloe for not group texting on Father's Day.

July -  I worked July 4th, Mom had a mastectomy, painted the backdoor, met with financial advisor at credit union, failed at finding a new counselor for me, met a friend for a beer, picked up some important documents in downtown Austin, sold your guitars, really cried, closed on Highlands, bought tires for my car, Mom had a stroke and fell - visited her in the ICU, brought Grayson home from Texas State, hospice arranged for Mom.

August - Visited mom in Bryan hospital several times, took several big batteries to the recycle center, Mom transferred to Caldwell Rehab, drove to Caldwell several times in 100 degree plus heat, took the Baja in for repairs, found Grayson drunk and puking in a ziploc at home, started working to manage mom's affairs, got a steroid shot for severe knee pain, organized all the tools, got off the antidepressant, never called out, saw my doctor, send a craft project to a friend, cried, got my roof inspected, got more trees trimmed, changed homeowners and auto insurance, saw the dentist.

September - took paint to the recycle center, had more routine maintenance on my car,  visited Mom at Melissa's house a couple times a week, worked on finding a nursing home, had Home Depot come measure the floors, euthanized Gus, cleaned Mom's house and gathered up her mail, put more bulky trash out, met with mom's financial advisor, spent hours at Wells Fargo, spent hours at Chase, put new tires on the Baja, initiated a long term care policy claim for mom, celebrated Chloe's birthday, got a refund check from the first nursing home and found a more suitable place, so much crying, went to Brenham again to check mail and set up timers, tile guy delivered tile, stressful move of Mom to Spanish Oaks where she then died a few hours later.  Chloe told me "I'm sorry that happened" but the rest of them did not acknowledge it.

October - planned a funeral, wrote an obit and arranged it to be published, agreed to help Spencer re-home his cats which didn't pan out, took Dylan and Chloe with me to abovementioned funeral, got a haircut, noticed the fridge is leaking, guest bathroom tile job was begun, found Grayson passed out in his room, cried and panicked, painted and purged my office, got rid of the wine fridge and about a dozen wine glasses, celebrated Dylan's birthday, took jewelry in for repair.

November - Took paperwork and files to mom's executor/lawyer, including all of her wet and ruined mail from the post office, got the name of a new therapist I won't follow up on, put a Christmas tree up in my bedroom, noticed the fence is falling and called a fence company for a quote, got the tile job done in my bathroom, made cinnamon dough for ornament tags, cried, got my air ducts cleaned, had the switch replaced in the boy bathroom, replaced the shower stall splash guard, got TxTag to cancel your account, took a beginner Tai Chi class, took myself to a movie, (two of our four kids forgot my birthday), cleaned the house/cooked all of the food/hosted Thanksgiving after working a 6 hour shift, decorated the Christmas tree with Dylan, cried a lot, thrift shopped and found a dress for Christmas Eve.  Made my New Year's resolutions early.

December - Battled a 2 week respiratory illness, took more things to Goodwill, haggled with T-Mobile over my bill, got a contact number for the hospital chaplain, got Harry's diamond cufflinks turned into earrings (Merry Christmas to me), changed the air filters, put together all of Christmas gifts, decided not to send out cards, decorated the house, cried, didn't drink as much, paid the 6 months due tags on the Baja, found another of your knives to give Grayson for his birthday, got rid of most of the firewood, made fudge, participated in Secret Santa at work, attended church virtually on Christmas Eve, hosted the kids for Christmas Day, celebrated Grayson's birthday, un-decorated/cleaned/organized the week after Christmas, finally got Grayson to tell me he didn't pass his last class, moved some furniture around, took Christmas down, watched Netflix and read, and will work the entire weekend of New Year's.

******

Hopefully this recap will look far different in 2024.

*I'm following a series of prompts for a few posts.

Something that makes me feel cared for*

I was sick recently with some kind of respiratory bug and on a phone call with another co-worker she suddenly asked "Can I bring you something? maybe some Sudafed?"  You know how someone sounds when they are truly ill?  They sound nasal-y, tired, annoyed, defeated.

It was me.

"I'll bring you that.  Anything else?"  It kind of made me want to cry, to tell you the truth.  Turns out she emptied her medicine cabinet and brought me a grocery sack full of OTC delights.  I'm so used to not having anyone pinch hit for me in life.  Even the people who live at home with me listened to me choke, cough, and cry for several days before they really noticed. I wasn't asking for sympathy, but it would be nice for us all to look out for each other.

Leave it to another working mom to SEE you and offer some Sudafed and TLC.  Will that be my last physical illness of 2023?  God, I hope so.

*I'm following a series of prompts for a few posts.

A mantra for now*

I don't always believe the words in my head, but I hear them in my mother's voice as she tells me:

"You can do this, Gina.  You're a strong woman." 

trees are amazing - as they grow they bend, rather than break

I didn't ask to be in this life situation I am now.  I did not approve of all these changes.  I don't particularly feel strong.  I'm being handed a lot of shi*t I don't want.  And yet I get up every day, make my bed, put my clothes on, and get to work, so maybe that's all that strength is anyway. When I pray, I ask God for more strength, just so I can get through this terrible time and see what's on the other side.  Because what else would I ask for?

There might be something great ahead, so I will expect the best.

*I'm following a series of prompts for a few posts.

One thing I can do today to make life easier*

 One thing I have been meaning to do lately is to start up walking again.  Getting started is a mental struggle more than anything else.  Just trying to force myself  out of my routine and put on my tennies and GO is so hard.  But I know it would make my life better (therefore easier) in many ways.  I would:

*sleep better

*have more energy during the day

*get some sun and fresh air

*probably feel better mentally

*meet neighbors and get reacquainted with my neighborhood

*probably increase my metabolism, helping me lose weight

*lower my blood pressure

ha ha!

I went so far as to buy a new pair of tennies that I have used only a handful of times.  I even parked them right by the front door.  What I need to do is set an alarm with The Google Lady, my phone, and ask one of the boys or a friend to help me be accountable.

I can do that.

I just have to get started, and really that is the hardest part.

*I'm following a series of prompts for a few posts.  It was an idea I found on a grief website, and I remember which one, I will come back and update this post.

Happy things for December 2023

My December home is sanctuary. 

Peaceful, quiet, beautiful, relaxed.  Just what I want to feel.

*In November, I gave all of Mom's papers and mail to the attorney and now I am doing no more than the other three heirs in regards to her estate.  It felt so lopsided for a bit there and I am glad not to have to worry so much about it.

*Some random home repairs are off my list: the fan switch in the boys' bathroom has been replaced and the handyman also showed me where I did indeed wire the new switch in the ceiling fans correctly - its just that the fans failed. {go me?} The dryer vent was also cleaned and the mountain of dust and debris removed was scary and amazing and I am SO glad it was done. The tile job is FINISHED as well.  Three things off my Rustown list.

*I was done with Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving and stayed within a very reasonable budget.  I am looking forward to Fudge Day as its my homemade gift for my peeps. I find that I really love to create a homemade gift.

*I'm off work Christmas Day, and if the weather allows I will take a nice long walk, eat a delish meal, read for a bit, and relax with a nap!  And I am looking forward to working my regular shift on New Year's Day as a send-off to the '23 holiday season. 

*Grayson will be done commuting to San Marcos.

*My nails are back to growing and look great.  I got some jewelry repairs done and am enjoying said jewelry.  I started up walking again.  And health-wise, everything is on an even keel for me right now.

All is calm.  All is bright.

One thing I want to remember about Mark and Mom*

 Mom

     She had such strength.  She may have cried and felt immense sadness, but she always managed to "pull her socks up" (her words) and get on with the business of life with great dignity.  As a single working mom, she set such a strong example for me and I try every day to think of that as I navigate this whole messy grief life.  Did she feel her losses deeply?  Yes.  Did she manage to create a life for herself just the same?  Also yes.  And she never forgot Jim, a big loss.  She forever loved and missed him, but carried on bravely with faith.  She was a powerful force in my life.

Mark

     His love for me was true, steadfast, and strong.  He never stopped loving me, even when I was un-loveable.  He may have been cross with me at times, but it never changed how he felt about me deep down inside.  No matter whether he harbored some regret in his life over choices he made, I always knew where I stood with him.  Did I push his buttons? Yes. Did he push mine? Also yes.  I hope I was able to express to him how much he meant to me.

The best things about two of the best people, who I miss deeply.

*I'm following a series of prompts for a few posts.

Is home wherever Mom is?

 Last year I wrote a carefully worded and heartfelt Christmas card to my grown kids and included it with a mountain of Christmas goodies, a meaningful gift of Mark's pocketknives, and fun Santa hat stocking stuffers. {was I still trying to "make" Christmas for them because I felt terrible still that they had lost their Dad?  Possibly.} I asked them to please stay close, lean on each other, and let me know how things are in your world because I still want to "mom" you through these tough times.  And what was the upshot of those cards, do you think?

Not only did no one respond to them, but a week later on New Year's Day, my daughter informed me that she wasn't coming over for dinner because she was ready to move on with her life.  The others, though they made a point in asking me if I were going to make Ham Balls (which I did) just no-showed, no-called.  Were my feelings hurt?  Yes.

And so its been almost a year.  And I feel as though I only hear from any of them when they need a haircut, a dog sitter, a place to live when their relationships fall apart, or phone/car/food.  But offering to continue providing for them in a one sided relationship was not was I was suggesting in that card.

Mark was only the first wave of a tsunami of change that has hit my family, and I see that clearly now.  There will be other waves to follow.  I can either let them drown me, or I can build a raft (life).  Home may be wherever Mom is, but Mom has to decide for herself what that future home will be and how I manage the relationships in it.

Gina

Things I love about my job

What a difference a year makes!

A year ago, I was miserable at my job, and I had been for at least a couple of years.

One of the rooms I spend a large portion of my weekends in!

Mark knew it, too.  So we devised a plan.

The plan was to learn a new modality (CT), wait until the new hospital opened, then commute from Burnet to Austin for a part-time position there.  You know what they say about the best laid plans; one calamity after another happened.  But I did eventually make it to the new place.  And I have to say, though it has taken me a few months to settle in to the routine of my new shift, I couldn't be happier that I made the move.

For starters:  I'm not overworked and overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work.  I'm not on my feet all day, sometimes going without lunch, being sent to challenging situations, running all over a huge Level I trauma hospital for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week.  Although I work three 12 hour shifts per week, I have plenty of time to sit, regroup, recharge. And I don't go without breaks. I don't have a narcissistic boss who hates women, discourages upward mobility, and discounts every rational suggestion or reasonable idea.  My boss buys us snacks and sits and talks to us in the workroom. Communication could be better, but suggestions and input are welcome. I don't work with people who call out, slack off, or bring their personal drama to work making a challenging day harder for everyone else. I genuinely like my co-workers and we are all happy to be there - many of transferred from the bigger hospital.  The equipment is new, not perfect, but I'm proficient on it.  After 6 months, I know my way around the hospital and most of the employees I come in contact with.  There is plenty of parking at street level, a Keurig in every breakroom, music on Pandora in the workroom, and I earn more money than I ever have.

Most importantly, I feel valued.

That's a lot to love about my job!

Mom

 Oh, this makes me sad to post.

But its been 2 weeks so here goes.

Jeannette Ogden Parry 3/01/1930 – 9/28/2023

Jeannette Parry of Brenham Texas passed peacefully on September 28, 2023.

Born during The Great Depression, Jeannette, the daughter of Malcolm Ogden and Beatrice Pledger lived a simple, yet idyllic childhood spent roaming the woods and springs of rural East Texas with her brother Robert and cousin Charles, who both preceded her in death.. She graduated high school at age 16 in Coldsprings, Texas and as a young mother of three enrolled in XRay school at Herman Memorial Hospital. This set the stage for a lifetime of work in the medical field of Imaging. In the late 70's she increased her knowledge and training and was the first Ultrasound Technologist at John Sealy Hospital at UTMB in Galveston and served as Chief Technologist, living the example to her children of the importance of an education and training. She worked all over the United States and two hospitals in Saudi Arabia. She was an expert at anything she put her mind to: quilting, crochet, embroidery, cooking, raising chickens, gardening, traveling. She had a zest for life and an indomitable spirit.

Jeannette was married four times and had eight children – 6 girls and two boys: Jeannette, Sherry, Alene, Margaret, Kenneth (deceased), Gina, Melissa, and Kurt. She recently expressed how happy she was to have been a mother. In addition she had 23 grandchildren, 11 great grandchildren, and four great great grandchildren. She created a legacy of love and resilience in the face of adversity and was a force to be reckoned with. She was predeceased in death by all of her husbands, her son Kenneth, and her beloved companion Gus. Through it all, she never lost her faith or her strength of character. Good job, Mom - you were a courageous and strong woman who set an example for all of us. We look forward with great joy to being with you again someday. 

Some bright morning when this life is over
I'll fly away
To that home on God's celestial shore
I'll fly away
I'll fly away oh glory
I'll fly away in the morning
When I die hallelujah by and by
I'll fly away

I just want to add, that I may have put a kinder touch to things or made it seem like a peaceful passing.  But it wasn't, really.  The last two months were traumatic and stressful for my sisters and myself.  How much Mom understood was happening is unclear.  There was a sense that she was trapped in a body and brain that did an incomplete job of dying. Since none of us knew exactly what to expect, what we should do, nor how to do it, grief started up almost immediately.  And because of the way my mother arranged her affairs, it will be months before we can finalize them and move on.

So, an 8 month timeline for my mother's mastectomy, stroke, fall, hospitalization, decline, death, burial, will probate, and disposition of property.  Cue hair loss.

Happy things for October

 A little work-related humor:

Because this has happened to every XR tech

*After a couple of months that were over-the-top stressful and terrible, Mom passed.  I'm not sure if I will ever blog it.  Maybe I will post her obit on this blog and write a few words. It may sound terrible to anyone reading this, but I feel relief mixed in with the sadness.

*The weather is cooling!  We had a good drenching rain and the grass and shrubs and trees are greening up!  Finally, Fall.  

*I got myself scheduled for painless fillings on the bottom row of my front teeth that will improve my smile.  I got a haircut that released a lot of bounce and looks far less straggly.  I am getting back on a regular schedule with my vitamins.  And I am not eating fast food or junk snacks. I am not letting grief or depression take over aspects of self-care.

*Grayson got a part-time job. I have big blocks of time where the house is all mine.  I can play music loudly,  do loud chores (vacuuming, putting up dishes), and cry when and where I need to.  Hooray for alone time.

*I continue to organize and clean out spaces at my house -  it feels good to stay on top of things.  I put out a few Fall decor items which make my home feel cozy and pretty.  And I have plans to do some things for the house that the weather will make much pleasanter.

Fall feels like a mini New Year.

Snail mail

As  POA for Mom, I've had to rely on my stash of legal size envelopes, stamps, and return address labels a few times.  That is in addition to having to fax things. The world runs on paper even still.  Don't believe me?  You will if you are ever in my situation...  Fax machines are still in use, as well as paper, real ink signatures, and postage.

I ran out of legal size envelopes, so I added them to my grocery list.  Previous to that, I was using just regular ole' envelopes, mostly to stay in touch with Mom.  We have been "faithful correspondents" for years since before I went away to college.  My handwriting was so sloppy that I started typing the letters - I was a busy mom of four, ya know.  I knew that she was delighted to receive them - she told me that it was the first thing she opened when she found one in the mail.  I wanted her to be able to read them with ease.  First 16 pt, then 15 pt.  Short and sweet - one page long.  They were my opportunity to tell her all of the things that she had so little patience to listen to on the phone.  And that was OK with me, as I knew she felt isolated and wanted to share what was going on in her life.  Truth be told, I wanted to hear it.  Even though she said I told her otherwise, I never did.

Looking at the plastic bin under my desk is hard.  I have no one else to write.  Mother may have misunderstood a thing or two that I wrote to her, and she often "quoted" me incorrectly, but writing her a letter, at least once every week or two, kept me grounded and connected to her.  At some point, I will collect all of those letters, that I am sure she never threw away, and add them to the collection of the letters she wrote to me in response.  They span years and years as a diary of our life together as mother and daughter.

Gus

Months ago I asked Mom what the plan was for Gus when it was time.  She knew exactly what I was talking about.  You know, Mom - when he's in pain or can't eat or can't get around?  "Gina, why can't you let me be happy?" was her reply.  (I hope to God she didn't trip over him and that's what caused her to fall just after her stroke...)

And I get that she didn't want to think of losing him.

But I also get that you can't just let him suffer needlessly after all this time as your faithful companion.  Gus was plagued by glaucoma and could not see.  Likely had migraines, according to the vet. Wasn't hearing too well.  Had a limp, probably due to arthritis or dislocated hip.  And had become incontinent.  This wasn't going to work  at my sister's house, and we didn't think anyone else was on the same page as we were.  Offers to help weren't really realistic.  Gus is an indoor dog and already a couple of years past his life expectancy.  Mom wasn't aware of Gus; Gus wasn't aware of Mom.  And there was no easy way around it - he had no quality of life and he needed us to relieve his suffering at the vet.  It was time.

So on Thursday, I did.

I'm not a dog lover, in general.  But I understand what he meant to her and I know she would not willingly part with him.  But she was asked several times if she wanted to see Gus, and she said no.  She had to know he was in a bad way.  It was the second time I had to let a pet go this way, crying like a baby the whole time.  I know my mother will forgive me one day when he greets her in heaven with his happy little barks and wagging tail.  I have to believe that I made the right decision to end his suffering and act humanely.

Rest in peace, Gus.  

Its September

I wanted a whole lot of things to be different in September.  I figured August was heading in the right direction,  and I believe the "expect the best" motto, so why shouldn't things continue well?  But as usual, life likes to throw curves at me, just to see if I'm prepared for the worst.  And maybe I am, because I refuse to sink, even if this is not an enjoyable boat ride.

Mother sailed through her mastectomy, with very minor and much to be expected surgical side effects.  She had one of my older sisters staying with her, which turns out was a very good thing.  All along I feared that mom was no longer safe by herself and I believe I was right.  Turns out she had fallen at least a couple of times before July - she just didn't tell all of us, least of all her doc.  At two weeks post surgery she was feeling cantankerous and yelled at my sister that it was time for her to go.  Which my sister did, not recognizing a change of behavior in my mother.  And exactly three days later, mom had a stroke while standing, fell, and hit her head hard.

So, stroke plus head trauma. Add in broken ribs.

She spent a couple weeks  in the hospital, bouncing back and forth from ICU and Neuro.  Then she got transferred to a rehab hospital, which was no rehab at all.

Were the 3 of us (two sisters and myself)  using that time to find her a nursing home?  Searching her house for Powers of Attorney or other legal paperwork?  Cancelling her internet, cell phone, and newspaper, arranging for mail delivery and bill pay, caring for her house? Working together for her care and future living arrangements?  All no.  It was just crisis mismanagement and distrust from the start.  This is what happens when you play your adult children against each other, allowing miscommunication to fester as you continue to insist that everything is fine and you're doing well on your own.  Until you aren't.

Its only September 3rd as I type this, and maybe by the end of the month some big things will have been resolved, God willing, and we can spend this time loving her, not warring with each other.

Happy things for August 2023

The happiest thing?  July is over.

And although it still feels like hell on Earth outside, summer is at least halfway over, and that grass will recover... 

Table for one, coffee with creamer, please.

I love sitting on my deck, even tho its hot.

Fall can't be far away - no season skips its turn.  But also:

*I am going to get the last few maintenance items done on my car, and then I'm going to start the process of selling the truck.  That will make room in the driveway as well as eliminate that expense for me.

*2 of the 3 vehicles got updated (tags, titles, license plates) Expensive, but with a minimum of hassle.  When Grayson graduates, I will sign the title and give it to him.  From then on, not my expense.

*Related: my finances are improving.  I did order myself a new purse.  (:

*I have now been at my new hospital for 3 months and my work stress is greatly improved.  Like comparing night to day!  I like my co-workers, boss, commute time, pay, hours, equipment, and working conditions.  What's not to like?

*After getting over that self-imposed 2 year hump, I am feeling better.  I have a couple of books to read that are actually helpful, and I am dropping the antidepressant.  I understand the grieving process - I know there will be rainy days ahead, too.  But the sunny ones seem to be lasting longer now. 

Touchy feelies

 And I'm not referring to this cactus:

I wouldn't try to be hugging this, myself.

I got into a bit of trouble for not sending out a message to my peeps on Father's Day.  To tell you the truth, it was a hard day for me.  I lost the man who was father to my kids aka My Loss, Too.  I had time to think about it since then, and I came to the conclusion that I should have sent them all a little something. So, just like at Christmastime*, I wrote something to each of them first thing on Sunday morning to acknowledge that it was the 2 year anniversary.  It was important to me that they didn't just suddenly realize that, later in the day.  I wanted to remind each one of them that he left a legacy of love and pride in his family and we can choose to make that the focus of our memory of him.  Now, would they have remembered the date themselves? Possibly. I didn't send it as a group text, because literally no one likes getting or responding to those.  And by mid-afternoon, two of them responded.  And that's because not everyone loves a touchy feelie note to remind them of a terrible day, and maybe they also didn't need me to suggest that this day was more than just an occasion to cry. 

I mean, if that's what they want to do, fine.  Crying can be cathartic.

But just because they don't mention that they got the message doesn't mean I won't do it again in the future.  The subject of Mark is going to come up again and again and again and again...and eventually we will smile more than we cry.  At least that is my touchy feely hope.

*No one said a thing about the touchy feely Christmas card, but oh well.

If it ain't broke, I fixed it

Lately I think "if it ain't broke, I fixed it"*.

I have hired someone to take care of some things {the sprinkler system, the alarm system, mower maintenance, tree trimming, repair of the backyard faucet, repair of a water pipe at Highlands}.  But I have also been the one doing the fixing {hung a bamboo shade, cleaned and purged the garage and closets, cleaned the A/C compressor, re-caulked my tub, mow and edge the yards regularly, cleaned and resealed the deck, refinished the kitchen cabinets}.

my humble abode

Last week I used my new sander to smooth out the door frame so the front door would stop sticking.  I also replaced the door sweep, as well as painted,  the back door.  Sometimes as I am doing these things, I think "well, this isn't working out to be perfect", but what is?

(I also sing a little ditty to myself called "you will not defeat me" in an operatic voice)

  Even Mark had a learning curve.  I can imagine him fixing something for the first time, doing his best and knowing that a done something was better than a perfect nothing.  Sure, there was cussing sometimes, same as me.  I also imagine him cheering me on, urging me not to give up.  I'm learning a lot about things I never thought I would need to.  And I hope he would be proud of me.

*Grayson's version is "if it ain't broke, don't break it"

Happy things for July 2023

 I am settling in to my new shift, though for the last couple of weeks I have been working extra hours and taking a tad bit extra call.  And while everything is not peachy, some things are, and I am holding on to those things as hard as I can!  There will always be sad things, but here are the happy ones:

my desk at work - yes I am eating breakfast here...

*Highlands sold in a week, and for what I expected to get, without me even getting someone to mow it.  The new owner even wants the canoe and the trailer, and that is a load off my mind.

*My boss fixed my pay - I wasn't receiving the full weekend differential.  So not only are my paychecks bigger than what they were when I was working 40 hours M-F, I got back pay for that missing differential.

*My nails are still growing and look great.

*My cholesterol is down.

*I dropped Facebook and am on Instagram far less.

*My mother did well in her surgery and is at home, resting and recovering.

*I am moving forward with big projects at home - next up is bathroom floors.

Discovering what I don't want

 I have spent so much time over the past few months thinking "what do I want?".

It may sound ridiculous, but for so long, I didn't have that mindset.  I was a married person, so all of my wants and plans were filtered through a marriage.  Mark and I, for the most part, compromised on what it was we wanted to do with the house, the kids, the future.  But he also had an agenda for how we were going to spend retirement, and he was hyper fixated on his plan.  To the point that he hammered it home often.  And really, there wasn't much space in there for me to give an opinion.

But that was then and this is now.

Sometimes it takes pain  or discomfort or sadness from something to realize its no longer meant for you. I was wearing my snake boots at Highlands, doing a few things both inside and outside of the barn. Sweating half to death in the brutal heat and humidity, bugs in my face, the inside of the boot heel slowly scaping away my skin, and I thought "I don't want this".  Really, any of it. I was willing, for our combined happiness, to think of Highlands as an acceptable retirement home. It truly is a place of beauty, and I will forever remember the time spent with Mark admiring long sunsets, peaceful breezes, and the wonder of the sky at night.  But it also is a place of harsh weather conditions, cactus and tall grass with little dirt (mostly rock), country wildlife and insects, very hard work, and isolation. And there's no way now that I will ever use it for what it was intended.

And so.  I do now know more about what I want.

Happy things for June 2023

 One of the hardest things to do in life involves changing habits.  They just get so ingrained into your day.  The thoughts you have, the foods you eat, even the motions you make.

Flexing my "happy thought" muscle is one.  Yes, I am grateful for so many things in my life.  But being grateful for some blessings does not erase the pain of losing others.  Even so, its good to make a list now and again, just to remind myself that happy things are still happening.

*Dylan bought a car.  This relieves me because I was worried that he wasn't concerned about my car's upkeep (which he was not) and because gas is so much cheaper driving my car vs. the truck.  

*I hate to tempt fate, but so far nothing major has failed or needed to be replaced at my house.  And I am doing my best to stay on top of the yards. 

*Haven't had a vertigo episode lately.  Knee only barely aches. Going to get an eye exam this week which might result in glasses. I'm staying on top of medications, doctor visits, and improving my habits. *update: no glasses needed!

*It sounds counterintuitive to say that it makes me feel happy to know I have taken stock of the people in my life and decided who can stay.  The new Gina feels lonely at times, but I am making space in my life to make new friends.  What's not to like about THAT?

*And I'm still happy to visit Highlands, while I decide how much longer it will be in my life.

Welcome, June.

Making space

I finally emptied out Mark's nightstand drawers.  It wasn't that it was hard to do, its just that it wasn't at the top of my list of things to work on.  But last weekend I wanted that feeling that I am actually in control of my life.  I wanted to be able to clear a space or a closet or a drawer or SOMETHING. Every week the progress is finally starting to become clearer.   While I'm working on it, if I let my thoughts go down a certain path, I feel anger towards him... for allowing our home to become so full of useless (to me) shit.  For refusing to help me purge it and organize it, instead making me in charge of making everything fit so we would still have room to raise four children here. For not taking care of himself and literally letting himself die instead of visiting the doctor like I asked him to.  For making this problem mine now, fully mine, in a future that is completely different from the one we planned to spend together.

I find a personal item and it brings it all back full circle.  He is gone, and he does not care about any of this stuff.  He did, in the past.  He does not now.  All of the things here belong to me now.  Yes, it is a burden and a chore, but it feels so good to let these things go.  Guilt-free.  The camping crap?  Going.  The electronics?  Going.  All of the clothes, coats, shoes, gimme caps. Gone.

So, so much stuff in the garage that defies description.

This pair of eyeglasses I remember well - I thought they looked great on him.  They are now going to bless someone else who needs glasses, next month when I go for my own eye exam.  Keeping all of the the things and having to organize them, move them, and see them forever makes no sense to me.  It keeps me rooted in the past, and that's not where I'm headed.

Addition by subtraction.  Making space for the future me.

Its a great life...

 ...if you don't weaken.  Something Mark used to always say.  He wasn't one to feel pity for himself or stay down in the dumps for long.  I would label him an optimist, for sure.  No telling how he would have handled being a widower, though.

Dylan found this pic of me on an SD card in Mark's camera.  Something I tossed into a bin of electronics not realizing it might have photos on it.  It was 2019 and we were at a new-to-us winery, having a great time sitting outside and sipping wine.  It was the only photo like it on the card.  All the photos before that were a Christmas party with his office, and all the photos after that were the barn build-out.  A moment to pause, and he looked at me and thought to take a photo.

It was a great life, we had a great time the last few years we were together.

And I guess it can still be a great life, if I just don't give in to sorrow and weaken.

Dream feelings about Mark

Me and my "handyman" 

     I'm the independent sort, but I have been thinking lately about all of the things Mark isn't here to help me address, and how sometimes it can get overwhelming.  So, of course I had this dream:

     I had a gaping and jagged edge hole in my floor and Mark was suddenly here, fixing it with his table saw and some plywood.  He didn't look the same - had longish hair and was thin, and he didn't say much, but I knew it was him and I was relieved that he was taking care of it.  I thought: wait - this is impossible, it can't be. But other people were also in the background of my dream and they saw him, too. I woke up from this very short dream and I felt so sad I immediately started crying.  Trying to shake myself out of it was hard - it stayed with me all day.  In conversation with three people that day, I mentioned it.  I got very mixed results!

To Friend #1 I just told her I dreamt about Mark.  She responded with "hope it was a positive experience".  I told her how sad it made me feel, and she immediately ended the convo with "well, I hope the rest of your day goes well."

Friend #2 was much more understanding, pointing out to me that there is no timeline for grieving, don't downplay it for anyone, and this was likely part of that and not out of the norm.  She also reminded me that people who care about me hurt alongside me and are not just going to ignore what I am telling them with flip response. That was comforting to me, and I was able to put the dream out of my mind and get on with my morning.

Friend #3 is into dream interpretation, so she told me: dreaming about a deceased partner signifies you miss them and still grieve for them OR you are going through a major transition OR in your dream he is guiding you to address something you've been putting off.  She said the beneficial traits of him are being offered to me as a blessing from him.  That was also comforting to me, and all of it made some sort of sense.  She also said whether you fix something yourself or hire someone to do what Mark used to, you got this. 

     I so wish I felt like I got this - some days I almost do.  And some days I think "I wonder would Mark would think about this situation?  What would he have done?  And I wonder if he would be proud of me for how I have managed so far?"

Doing what I said I would never do

I don't know if there are any moms out there reading this blog who said the same thing I did when I started my family: I am going to be the BEST mom.  I'm going to read all the books, and do all the things, and be really smart about it and show everyone HOW ITS DONE.  I'm going to walk the walk, talk the talk, stay married, put in the hard work, love those kids with all my heart, kiss and hug them every day and do my best to raise the worlds best humans! 

I'm going to feed them right.  I'm going to make sure they have decent clothes to wear, medical and dental care, the right kind of carseat, Santa Claus, birthday parties, braces, swim lessons, sports, lots of photos in their baby books, and manners.  I'm going to make sure they are baptized, immunized, and prioritized in my life.  I didn't think it would be easy, but I meant all of it.

Until recently I was feeling good about my mothering.  But something about losing Mark really changed me, and not in a good way.  I became unable to remain an effective mom, because I was forgetting that I'm not a confidante to my kids.  They are not my peers.  And if there were parenting issues that Mark and I did not agree on, those things need to stay confidential between Mark and myself.  If we never got around to reconciling them, well too late.  

I discovered that I am human and very flawed, and maybe grief has only magnified that.  Or maybe its that being without him makes me somehow more me, which is somehow less.  So, I am going to very gently step back.  That's very hard.

They need to heal from losing Mark as much as I do, each of us in our own way, because the loss is not the same. And I think that the best thing we can do for each other right now, is give each other space.

I said I would never hurt them.

And I feel like I have done a less than stellar job of being their mom lately.

The eulogy I never posted

Mark's memorial at Highlands was a year ago today.  Doesn't seem possible...

I wrote my first ever eulogy while I was in the midst of grief - shell-shocked and bewildered.  I had no idea what I could say to my kids to give them peace, because I had no peace myself.  But I managed to put together something, much like I did the obituary.  Only time will tell if my kids remember this day and the words that were honest and heartfelt.  I'll just leave this right here...

In advance of this eulogy for Mark, I want to ask that each of you to feel that you, too, can share your thoughts about him, whenever it feels right for you to do so. The beauty of us being out here together, as family, is that we can feel supported and uplifted by each other as we reflect and remember.

To that end, I would like to offer this prayer:

God, we are gathered here today as the family of our husband, father, and brother in law who has departed from this world and come into your presence. Lord, it is not easy for us to stand here and eulogize him, but we know that he is now together with You in heaven and in no pain or sorrow. As we honor him, let the unconditional love that you showered upon him during his life fill Highlands. Help us to learn how to love and support each other in this time of sadness, loss, and celebration of life. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.

Its been 8 months since Mark died and Spring, with all of its hope and renewal seems like the perfect time for all of us to gather and celebrate his life and all of the blessings we knew because we loved him and he loved us.

Sometimes blessings happen when you least expect them, and sometimes they are well-disguised! Sometimes they seem like the cruelest thing you can imagine, even in the face of God's greatest mercy. A little background on how it all started...

Mark and I met by accident in 1980 at my high school boyfriends house. He's nice, I thought.

Then later that year I stopped to chat with him while he was actually out on a date – my bad...but I still thought, what a nice guy.

Then sometime later I chatted with he and friend when they stopped to say hello as they were cycling down the seawall in Galveston, and I was laying out sunbathing in my lawn chair with a girlfriend – both of us enjoying our summer home from college. “He's nice!, my friend exclaimed. You should date him!” I scoffed.

Months later still I bumped into him at a popular college spot in Austin when we were each out with friends. I just kept bumping in to this guy! We spent the evening dancing and laughing.

Our first “real” date happened when he invited me to his 21st birthday party in San Marcos and the rest, was a very obvious blessing.

Its been a challenging 8 months for sure and I do terribly miss bumping into that guy. And I'm sure it will continue to be challenging for some time to come. During these times, its hard to focus on the blessings instead of the loss, but maybe even more important to do so. The less obvious blessing is that he wasn't aware it was his time to go so he wasn't worried, stressed, or frightened by that. He did not linger in pain or fear. That's not what any of us would have wanted for him. It was a relatively quick and natural passing for him. Even though it was traumatic and lingering to all of us, it was a blessing that he did not suffer needlessly.

Mark was my person.  The only one I have ever planned to grow old with.  And I actually did! And we had a full life together. Forty years came and went... along with 2 houses, Highlands, 15 cars, 4 cats, 3 refrigerators, 4 dishwashers, umpteen vacuum cleaners, a boat, 2 canoes, 5 pregnancies, 4 children, 14 jobs, near financial ruin, rebounding success, sad times, happy times, sickness and health.  All of this and more - the full gamut of life together. Good and bad rolled into one huge blessing.

Chains do not hold a couple together in marriage, any more than money or wedding rings.  It is the many tiny invisible threads that sew a couple together and keep them connected over the years.

Everyone here has a Mark/Dad/Mac/Slap Daddy Mac memory to share, maybe many of them, and I hope you will do so here today and all of the days to come. It will help to keep you connected to him, and he to us.

All of us knew his wit, his counsel, his jokes, his hugs, the timbre of his voice.  He was someone we could always lean on. He left a legacy of love in his children, whom he was very proud of, always. My hope is that, in times of trouble, you will hear his voice in your head, remembering his advice and love.

God's mercies and provisions are new every morning. So on a daily basis, we should optimistically ask for and strongly expect: 

the miracles,

blessings,

and breakthroughs

that he provides for us in this life.

We should, in fact, in faith, expect the best.

In closing, I would like to offer this prayer:

Compassionate God, we thank you for the life of Mark who finished this life loving you and trusting in your promises. We thank you for the life and grace you gave him and the peace in which he now resides. Have compassion on our grief, Lord, and fill our hearts with thanksgiving to you. From you comes every good and perfect gift, including the gift of eternal life. In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.