Circumstances beyond one’s control

I am guessing that there are times in all our lives that there are events that happen for which we have never planned or envisioned. The old saying, “life happens,” occurs every day in every life. We have intentions of living each day a certain way and POOF “life happens.”

Now, this can be experienced in either a negative way or a positive way. Things like a twisted ankle, a botched recipe, a bad weather day, a bad hair day (although I can’t say I know much about those), a car crash, a loss of a loved one or many other things just happen.

“Life happens” also occurs in positive ways as well. A bright warm sunny day, a good breakfast, a comfortable shelter, a found $20 bill in the pocket of a jacket, discovering that there is a heater in the car seat, or a person appearing in your life who lights up the world around you as you exit from a darker time.

When a person loses a spouse, for whatever reason, exiting the dark forest that was  shrouded in sadness and despair can be daunting. A part of what made you “whole” is gone. The emptiness, the void, remains. Having grieved and finally accepting the circumstance means that although friends, coworkers and family may have supported you the whole time, in the end you are still alone. You are alone both emotionally and physically. Deciding how to fill that void raises a whole new set of questions to be answered. One aspect is that of relationships. Do I want to have a new relationship with someone? If I don’t want a relationship, will I be okay living alone? If I do want a relationship, when is the “correct” time to establish that relationship?

Living alone, for all intents and purposes, is a good thing if it fits your personality. There is a freedom to make decisions based on your personal priorities. Spending time doing things that may not have been possible in the past can be gratifying. Eating to please one’s own palette is a positive self care decision. Finding out who the “new you” is can make living alone a good choice as you transition to a new lifestyle. It is important, however, to be clear that living alone should not be confused with being lonely or loneliness. Being and accepting “being alone” can be a positive thing. Being lonely and experiencing loneliness are matters that may require assistance from an outside source. Make sure you access whatever  sources you need to work through those matters.

Deciding to feel okay about starting a new relationship can have its moments of concern. One might ask when is the right time to seek a new relationship? I suggest the “right time” may be when you can speak about your past relationship while looking forward positively in your every day activity. When it is possible to talk about past experiences with the lost love without having it spoil the positive mood of the conversation may be a good sign that the time is right. The past will always be the past, but it does not have to dictate your future.

And of course, after deciding to seek a new relationship, it is important to know that after a negative experience some may rush into a relationship too frantically. There is a a term called a “rebound relationship” that points to meeting someone, not because you are truly invested in that person but because it is a relationship to “heal the wounds” of the lost love. It is often a rushed experience.

There also seems to be circumstances that appear to be out of one’s control. All of a sudden, out of the blue, a person arrives driven by fate who lifts your spirits and makes you look forward to the next moment when you are together. And while this could be part of a “rebound affect,” if not looked at closely, it also may be just what a person may discover to be a positive long term relationship moving forward. One of the keys to knowing the difference is to know that you are finally moving on from grieving with no heavy baggage attached. If you have worked through your grief and can honestly admit that this new person can not only fill the void you may be feeling, but you can also honestly admit that you have within you something to offer to help her/him fill their void as well, proceeding can prove to be the metaphorical medicine that heals the broken heart.

Everyone, I would you to meet Jan.

Jan, this is everyone.

I can not tell you enough good things about all the great people you may meet while we are together. My friends and family have all been here supporting me throughout this, what I would consider, very long journey. Anything I have needed was available by making a simple request. They have cared for me emotionally, spiritually and have made sure I have all the “survival goods” I needed to move on. Of course, many times, like the old Wilson Ave. parade days, I would mention that no one had signed up for dessert ;-)

Friends and family, I have known Jan for almost 50 years. We have a history that has weaved through our past. And it was the circumstances of Joyce’s illness and passing that have brought us together. Right now, being together, healing together, and positively reinforcing each other is helping our relationship grow and filling the voids from our past. Jan is intelligent, artistic (graphically,  and musically), warm hearted, honest, humorous and as I am learning, very competitive while playing cards.

I am looking forward to having all of you meet her when you and she happen to be visiting Peaceful Pines at the same time. 

Opening the front door

 

Waking for the day, taking a shower, getting dressed, pouring that first cup of coffee, and relaxing in a comfortable chair to start the morning are all parts of a pretty solid routine that I have developed. It helps me get “centered” for the day. I have said it before and I will say it again, it is good to be (R)etired. The process allows me to assess how physically and mentally comfortable my day is starting and helps me plan the things that will carry me through the next several hours.

And then there is the front door. 

It stands there innocent and unpresuming. It is both inside and outside at the same time. On the inside, it shelters me from what is beyond the threshold. And that, my friends, is what makes the act of confronting the day, at times, a difficult task.

Once the physical door is opened, the face of reality greets me whether I am prepared for it or not. In the “real” world, it could be weather, sounds, smells, animals, friends, strangers or stillness and calm.

And then there is the metaphorical door. 

It is the one, unseen, that also stands innocent and unpresuming. It is both everything and nothing at the same time. This door shelters me as well. It shelters me from what is beyond its threshold. And those, my friends are the imaginations of the mind. And confronting them, at times, is a difficult task.

Once the metaphorical door is opened, the swirl of unanswered questions greets me begging for attention. In the “metaphorical” world it could be stress, happiness, loneliness, acceptance of oneself, personal health, relationships, or whether to close the door and brew another cup of coffee.

While there is no real control over the other side of the real door, Mother Nature for the most part takes care of that, stepping through the metaphorical door allows the opportunity to assess one’s true well being. It offers the opportunity to make decisions and have control. The trick is to not succumb to the temptation of stepping back inside to brew another cup of coffee.

It has been, for me, a long seven months since Joyce passed. My self imposed isolation has afforded me the opportunity to co-exist with both of my doors. Peaceful Pines is a great place to do that. There has been a lot of healing that has taken place. Grief is a very formidable opponent. I am glad to say that I did not succumb to the temptation of closing the metaphorical door, but have embraced moving forward in a positive healthy way. Family and friends have been in my corner from the very beginning and I am positive that is what made moving forward possible.

“And what does moving forward, for you, mean?”, you might ask. 

First, the real door at Peaceful Pines is open for visitors again. You may be passing through on your way somewhere, but the coffee is always on. You may be looking for a place to camp or to stay at the Peaceful Pines “BnB” as many have done in the past. The fire pits will be blazing ( DNR permitting ), the trails will be groomed and there will always be a meal at the table.

Second, the metaphorical door will find me venturing out renewing old and building new relationships, which is something that, while a challenge for me (the new part), will help to keep me moving forward, and I am looking ahead to those opportunities.

Fog

 I had originally wanted to title this “The Gauntlet.” I even had quite a bit of it composed.

The process for me in writing these is to: rough draft, edit, second rough draft, edit, think about what I have written, third rough draft, edit and then publish.

I got to the “think about what I have written” part and it seemed to me that what I was describing is not really what I was feeling happening to me. So then I was at the “start over part.” 

It occurred to me that grieving, while at times feeling arduous and defeating, is really more like following a path that is unclear about what is ahead. I would dare say it is much like driving in a thick fog with only the fog lines as a guide.

That is where Carl Sandburg comes in:

Fog

BY CARL SANDBURG

The fog comes 

on little cat feet. 

It sits looking 

over harbor and city 

on silent haunches 

and then moves on.

Grieving is that “cat” that descends upon the mind. Thinking is shrouded and unclear. Decisions are difficult to make. The direction one is traveling in one’s mind is confusing.

But over time, as the fog lifts and as the light brightens the sky, a clearer path emerges. It suggests hope and a brighter future. That is what is happening here at Peaceful Pines. It has been six months since Joyce passed. And yes, I am still sad. But there are many signs that moving forward will be easier as time moves on. Family, friends and even strangers keep showing me that being positive and friendly and caring is the fuel I need to continue on that path moving forward.

“Cephalocaudal, proximo distal,” was something a professor in one of my final education classes reminded me. In this instance, it certainly applies.  As time is passing, rational thinking is returning and the rest of my body is becoming accustomed to the new reality of what it is going to be like living alone. My heart is aching less (to be sure there is still sadness) but I am also engaging with others in positive forward looking conversations.

Peaceful Pines will always be my anchor spot, but I see venturing beyond the “safety” of the trees in the future. 

Well, not the immediate future. It is a -30º windchill outside for crying out loud.

Elephants 🦣

  

There is a saying that the best way to clear the air in a conversation is to start early by talking about any elephants that are in the room. 🦣 🦣

For those who have not heard that phrase, it refers to any topic that is on a person’s mind but may be uncomfortable bringing up and talking about it. 

For instance, if it is 30º outside and I am the only one wearing cutoffs by the fire ring while visiting with friends, others may be thinking a few different thoughts about me but may not want to bring it up for whatever reason. That would be “the elephant in the room.”

Or, another example could be when I am having breakfast with others and I put syrup on my sunny side up eggs. There may be thoughts, either positive or negative, that are unsaid even though others really want to talk about it. That would be “the elephant in the room.”

I had that experience the other day when Cole, Sharon and I were having a meal at a restaurant. It happened to be on October 24th. That happened to be Joyce’s birthday. I know I wanted to bring it up a few times in conversation, but each time I was going to, feelings started to well up inside of me that stifled the attempt. I did not know if Cole and Sharon were aware or if they were aware and perhaps were not comfortable talking about it. That ended up being the “elephant in the booth” that day. It was not a bad thing. It was just a thing that reminded me that this was the first of the “first times without” that are going to be happening in the near future. There is going to be Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, our anniversary, and other days that were special to us.

What I did. though, was reach out to Cole and Sharon and through text discussed it with them. I did that because I needed to talk about that elephant. With other firsts on the horizon, I know that it is going to be easier in the future to enter the conversation. It was just a matter of opening that first uncomfortable door. 

Joyce and I had always been proponents of open communication. The gist of this whole post is to encourage anyone out there to be strong enough, even though it may be uncomfortable, to broach whatever elephant subject that needs to be talked about. It is a time for sharing perceptions and feelings. And it can lead to a catharsis that makes moving forward in life easier. It is also a time that can help develop a more positive understanding of personal relationships.

So, for those who may be wondering, I am doing okay. I am making my way through the grieving process, as we all do, two steps forward and one step backward. I have always been a person to live one day at a time and that has definitely helped. And when the next “first time” event happens I am better prepared to greet that elephant, deal with it, and move forward.🦣

And the band played on

This is a bittersweet posting. On Thursday, September 15th, I donated all of Joyce’s band instruments to her old high school in Babbitt. There were a couple of euphoniums (her favorite instruments), a trombone, a coronet, a clarinet and a keyboard. One of the things I wanted to happen was to make sure that they knew 1) that she was an alumnus who cared about her home town, 2) that she was an accomplished musician, and 3) that even in a small town the people who grew up there do not forget their roots.

Music was a staple in our household. It certainly was not because of me ( I would be the tone deaf one of the family). But Joyce instilled the love of music not only in our son but also our grandchildren.

Joyce could have played in any band she would have chosen. The bands she did play in always appreciated her skill. And I always enjoyed listening to her play.

So, with this donation there is hope that a future alumnus from the Babbitt High school will be inspired to learn to appreciate the gift of music that he/she can give to others, if for no other reason than to bring happiness to anyone who takes the time to listen.

My Snow Globe

Here I go with the metaphors again. First let’s visualize the common snow globe.

It can vary in size. It can vary in shape. The contents, usually is some kind of meaningful scene which varies from owner to owner. But the swirling action of the “floaty stuff” is pretty much common to all of them.

So, of what is my snow globe made? My base on which the globe sits is the security I feel here at Peaceful Pines. The globe that encapsulates me is however far I choose to venture out at any give moment. For the scene inside the globe one could imagine a small figurine (that would be me) standing in a open area at the top of a hill  surrounded by pine trees. For those of you who we have had the good fortune to have visit us here, may recognize the scene minus the house, shed and other out buildings. The floaty swirly stuff in this scenario would be my emotions.

How does a snow globe work? Something has to move the snow globe enough to make the floaty swirly stuff move around. It really doesn’t take much.

My snow globe has been getting “moved” at unpredictable times. After Joyce passed it seemed like the darn thing was being jostled every day. And the trigger could be anything. Perhaps it would just be the time of the day, the setting of the sun, the wildlife in the yard, or the discovery of an engagement ring in a collection of jewelry that could upset the calm of the globe.

My floaty swirly stuff includes longing, reflection, joy, calm, wonder, gratitude, awe, sadness, and relief. What is not included is regret or anger. There is no regret because I know that we did all that we could for Joyce during her struggle. There is no anger because I know that because we live we also die. When and how that happens is unfortunate to say the least, but it is inevitable. And as things played out there was nothing we did wrong and did not pursue. And more importantly, Joyce finished her life on her terms.

Oh, Heck, there I went and jostled my snow globe again.

For those who check back every now and again, I appreciate it very much. If you want to, you can choose to follow this blog. There is a button at the top right hand side that gives a follow option. In the past I tried to make regular updates for those who wanted to stay abreast of Joyce’s condition. At the moment I am not sure how often posts will occur. I will wait patiently for something to inspire me and that may take a while.

Settling Dust

 There is an old saying that a person can have a better perspective of events “after the dust settles.” I think I am at that point right now. A lot has gone on in the last several years that has affected me and those around me as well. 

Of course, those who read this blog know it is the passing of Joyce to which I am referring. A few blogs back I wrote about the idea that even in darkness there is light. And upon reflection that has borne out in the events preceding Joyce’s passing and in days since. 

So many friends and family reached out to share that help was available if it was needed. And when help was needed they were there. There were so many words of encouragement that buoyed us up when we were down. The goodness that we both saw was the light at the end of a dark tunnel.

At the Service for Joyce she had visitors from all phases of her well lived life. It was a great tribute to the beautiful person she was. We often talk about “paying things forward.” I truly believe she paid forward by modeling gifts of friendliness, caring, creativity and talent that she shared with all those around her.

I have to admit this is a tough post to write. My heart is heavy and my tears sometimes fall like the raindrops one sees during our famous Minnesota “sun showers.” I will be remembering times of joy and boom, the “raindrops” fall for a short period of time. And then boom, the dry eyes return and the sparkle of the memory brightens the rest of the day.

The great thing about grieving is that if you allow it to happen, the heart that is heavy finds strength to heal and allows memories to be had without the interruption of a sun shower. Gladness and fond recollection comfort the sadness in the heart as one would cradle a melancholy child.

I have discovered that it is not realistic to expect me to just move on. There is a void. I am learning day by day how to fill that void. My new daily routine is a work in progress. My first task to which I have assigned myself was to find out when I should go to bed and when I should wake up. I am still working on that one. I think I will wait to assign myself something else until I figure that one out. 

Baby steps, Gary, baby steps.