Another poem written by my favorite author / poet / best friend / soul mate.
Speaking Up
F.E. Wagoner
She gave up the night light
when we moved in together,
believing that my presence
would ease her sleep,
could chase away the thick
groping of the darkness.
We finally agreed to pull the curtains,
the dorm room glowing peach
from the light pole on the street.
Just enough darkness to keep me sane,
to let me dream a little.
The first days with my husband
in the new apartment were clean and white
despite all the boxes
of our lives scattered around.
Sleeping on the floor those summer nights
windows open for any air,
the sound of cars on the street
muffled through our dark rooms.
Still there is the glow
of swimming pool lights through cracks
in the bedroom curtains.
Falling asleep is a strange thing,
a process of remembering,
the same kinds of boxes and arguments
about where to place
the chairs, how many drawers she got;
how she and I lay
on the floor of our room, some days
before we built the loft,
mattresses side by side,
how it is always the need
to feel a body close to me.
His breathing now
so much like hers. The same way
I can curl up beside a body
for any warmth. The light here
almost the same shade in darkness,
the same through curtains
as it was with her,
makes falling asleep
even with him next to me
a strange and difficult thing.
Why am I not supposed to say
I miss our nights together?
That her voice in the night
speaking up bad dreams and trouble
was all that kept me
from slipping over the edge of the loft
and dashing away.
There is no shame in wishing
for a womans body close to mine,
a silent longing for a chance to feel
powerful, once again knowing that
she dreams beside me.
Some lives are meant for sharing
in different ways
But here is the sadness of knowing, when the car
pulls away, when the phone disconnects,
that she speaks in her sleep for someone else.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
John imagined . . . so long ago!
My mother once said to me, "Jeanna, you think so differently from other people." She did not mean it in a bad way. I had been sharing some of my thoughts and beliefs with her, and that was her response. She is right. However, I don't believe that I think so differently from ALL other people, just most of the people here in good 'ol conservative northwest Iowa.
My best friend Faith and I think A LOT alike. We are about living for today and trying to be the best persons we can be. She recently posted an article on Religious Independents. I like that term, although I think I still choose to call myself unaffiliated. I like what the article had to say.
As I was driving home from work, I was thinking about the article and some of the conversations Faith and I had today via email. This song popped into my head. It was one of those ah-ha moments when I realized that "thinking differently from other people" has been around for a long time and we have been challenged to "think differently" all along by those who also thought differently. Thank you, John, for imagining and not being afraid to think differently.
Imagine
John Lennon
Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
My best friend Faith and I think A LOT alike. We are about living for today and trying to be the best persons we can be. She recently posted an article on Religious Independents. I like that term, although I think I still choose to call myself unaffiliated. I like what the article had to say.
As I was driving home from work, I was thinking about the article and some of the conversations Faith and I had today via email. This song popped into my head. It was one of those ah-ha moments when I realized that "thinking differently from other people" has been around for a long time and we have been challenged to "think differently" all along by those who also thought differently. Thank you, John, for imagining and not being afraid to think differently.
Imagine
John Lennon
Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Baby Steps - - Stumbling, But Still Trying
Well, my good intentions for health have gotten off to a fair start.
I have still kept my appointment with my new endocrinologist. It is still scheduled for March 2. Gary has the day off, so he is planning to go with me to make sure I go. He knows me too well and how I tend to cancel at the last minute with things like this.
I did take advantage of the free three month membership offered at the facility next to my company. I even made an appointment to meet with a personal trainer to get me set up on a program. I have not exercised yet and missed my appointment, but plan to do better next week. I don't work tomorrow cuz I have to take Chance to Sioux City to a doctors appointment, but my plan is to stop in on Tuesday, apologize for missing my appointment, and at the very least walk on the treadmill 3 times during the week.
The diet - - I did okay for 3 days. I ate good. I planned meals. I even cooked with fresh veggies. My body went into shock. OK, probably not, but I started struggling with low blood sugars, as many as 3 in one night, and I got sick of dealing, so, of course, I chose the easy road and beefed up the amount of carbs I was eating and they weren't the healthiest of carbs. Result was that the blood sugar problems stopped, but I felt sluggish. I am gonna get back on the wagon and go at it again - - just gotta figure out the blood sugar thing.
Planning meals for the week went well. I stuck to it the first 3 days, but forgot that I was not going to be home Thursday night for supper, and then I just kinda blew it from there. Having planned meals did help grocery shopping go a little easier. I am going to take the same approach next week and plan my menus out tonight.
So, there you have it, my small, stumbling, baby steps. Steps forward all the same.
I have still kept my appointment with my new endocrinologist. It is still scheduled for March 2. Gary has the day off, so he is planning to go with me to make sure I go. He knows me too well and how I tend to cancel at the last minute with things like this.
I did take advantage of the free three month membership offered at the facility next to my company. I even made an appointment to meet with a personal trainer to get me set up on a program. I have not exercised yet and missed my appointment, but plan to do better next week. I don't work tomorrow cuz I have to take Chance to Sioux City to a doctors appointment, but my plan is to stop in on Tuesday, apologize for missing my appointment, and at the very least walk on the treadmill 3 times during the week.
The diet - - I did okay for 3 days. I ate good. I planned meals. I even cooked with fresh veggies. My body went into shock. OK, probably not, but I started struggling with low blood sugars, as many as 3 in one night, and I got sick of dealing, so, of course, I chose the easy road and beefed up the amount of carbs I was eating and they weren't the healthiest of carbs. Result was that the blood sugar problems stopped, but I felt sluggish. I am gonna get back on the wagon and go at it again - - just gotta figure out the blood sugar thing.
Planning meals for the week went well. I stuck to it the first 3 days, but forgot that I was not going to be home Thursday night for supper, and then I just kinda blew it from there. Having planned meals did help grocery shopping go a little easier. I am going to take the same approach next week and plan my menus out tonight.
So, there you have it, my small, stumbling, baby steps. Steps forward all the same.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
For The Health Of It
Its that time of year when people resolve to make some sort of change in their lives for the better. I have often fallen into that trap, only to break the promises I have made to myself a short time later.
Just like a large percentage of the world out there, I have fallen into the trap again and have been thinking about my resolution for awhile, but decided to wait until January 1 . . . cuz everyone else is doing it. Sometimes, I resolve to make a change beginning on a Monday or the first of the month. It is so silly to have a time reference, but we all do it. The rational part of the brain says, "why not now?". The irrational side sets a time frame so that I still have time to continue the way I am, down the path that needs changing.
Of course I chose to follow the irrational side so that I could maintain my lifestyle a bit longer and decided to start on January 1. I have resolved to have better health and to play a significant role in obtaining it. Shocker! Bet that has never been any ones resolution before!
I have had a lot of physical and emotional issues the last year. I absolutely 100% know that I have been the major contributor to those problems.
I am a very severe brittle diabetic on an insulin pump. I have not seen my endocrinologist (diabetic doctor) in over 2 years - - probably much closer to 3 years. I often act like I am not diabetic. I eat what I want, when I want, and how much I want. The same goes for the amount of alcohol I consume and exercise that I get. Unfortunately, I am on the abundance side of the food and alcohol and the severely lacking side of exercise.
I have been diabetic for nearly 20 years and I have some of the typical diabetic problems that people have when they have had diabetes this long. I have diabetic nerve damage from mid calf down to my feet and cannot feel anything. I get infections very easily and heal very slowly. When I am sick, it takes me 2 - 4 times longer to get better than the normal person. My eye sight is declining and changes frequently throughout the day. And I could name few more too. Some of the issues I have are irreversible, but others could be improved. All I know is that these things need to change or I am just going to continue to shorten my life and meet with an early death. Death scares me very much because I have not found an answer that I am comfortable with for an after life option and I have 2 children, 1 very young, that I would like to see grow up and become adults.
So - the plan. How am I going to accomplish, or at least even start my lofty goal?
Well, one thing that I did not wait for January 1 was to contact a new endocrinologist. I made contact with the new doctor last week. They needed a referral from my family doctor. My family doctor was more than happy to make the referral. He has been bugging me for a long time to get back to my endo. Referral was made, the new doctor called me and I got their first opening - March 2. Okay, that is a ways out, but at least the appointment is made.
Next, I plan to talk to the new doctor about a blood sugar sensor that can be used in conjunction with an insulin pump. I met a woman, Julie, on the cruise I took to the Bahamas in October. While we were laying out, I noticed she had a pump and I started a conversation with her. She has the sensor and told me all about it. It checks your blood sugar every three minutes and adjusts your insulin accordingly. Of course, I tend to play devils advocate in everything, and I can see how easy that would be for me to continue to eat whatever I want because the pump will adjust to whatever my blood sugar is. So that is a hurdle that I will have to face, but having the sensor will be nice to keeping blood levels reasonable, thus treating my organs better. Julie told me that she used to have bad A1C levels. A1C is a blood test that can tell the amount of blood sugar control you have had over an extended period of time. A tightly controlled diabetic should be able to achieve a level of 6.0 - 7.0. The last time I had mine checked, which was probably close to a year ago was 11.3 - not good at all. Julie said that with her sensor she was able to keep hers at about a 5.5 and she had always been at 9.0-10.0 before. That makes me hopeful. So, my goal of getting a sensor and getting my A1C level to a reasonable number is in place.
Oh the food - - I love food. I love to eat . . . all the time and all the wrong things. Seriously, I think I can make progress here because I have found in recent months that I enjoy some foods that are good for me. I have always been a very picky eater. I have freaked out about food when I am going into a situation that I do not know what the food is going to be. When I went to the Bahamas, I resolved to try many things that I had never tried before. I was pretty successful with that endeavor and found that I liked many of the things. I continue to try new things. The plan: I know that I need to stop buying the snacking/grazing foods and keep healthier foods in the house. I also need to begin to cook balanced meals at night. We are a very on the go and fend for yourself kind of family. That needs to change - - for the health of all of us. I am getting groceries after work tomorrow. Tonight, I am going to plan meals for the week. That should get a good start on the food goal. I am not gonna go crazy and toss out all the bad foods in the house, but as they are used up, I hope to replace them with better choices. However, with that said, I will not and will never give up pop. Just putting that out there. It is diet and caffeine free. That is the best it is going to get.
Next, the exercise. I don't really hate exercising . . . not really. I am fine once I get to the gym . . it's the getting there that I hate. I have bought fitness center memberships twice in the past. I have bought them here in Hartley. I don't like that you have to buy your membership for a full year. I wish we had the option to buy 3 or 6 months at a time. I really don't like going to the fitness center when it is nice out. I bought them anyway, for the full required year, and only used them for 2 -3 months each time. Membership to the fitness center is not cheap and so I felt that I wasted my money. I have vowed not to do that again. The solution came to me at work last week. There is a fitness center at the end of the street from where I work - - literally between 100 and 200 yards from one of the buildings I work in. Well, they have a special that they have offered to the employees at my company - 3 months (January 1 - March 31, 2011) free membership with no future commitments. They are also open 24 hours now. I don't know what the membership rate is after that, but I am sure going to take advantage of this opportunity. When the free part ends, it will be April and should be nice enough to be outside! I lost 40 pounds last year - - in a very unhealthy way (stress and starvation). I have put over 1/2 of it back on. I want that back off plus some more, but I want to do it right this time. So, my goal for excercise is staring me right in the face, I just need to reach out and grab it.
The alcohol - - I am a beer girl - - straight up Budweiser. Beer has lots of carbs, which increases the blood sugar and promotes weight gain. This is a toughy for me. I only drink when I go out, and I only go out on the weekends, so there is a little bit of a reprieve for me. I haven't really decided what I am gonna do with this one. I have tried lite beers - yuck! I have even had a sip of something 55 - even more yuck. The only mixed drinks I really like are wussy drinks, so they are full of calories and carbs. I dont have to drink. I dont crave the alcohol. I just like to go out with my friends, toss a few back, and have a good time. I probably don't drink more than 4-6 when I go out. I will need to check the carb and calorie count on this one. It may have to remain my one vice.
So, I have a plan for obtaining some physical wellness. Some things in the plan already have the ball rolling and others are ready to get out the door. I really hope that I have the will power and determination to do this . . . I need to do it . . . I want to live and not be so sick all the time.
Now, how will I obtain emotional wellness? Faith tells me that she believes that my emotional unrest comes from my lack of control over my physical wellness. I do not disagree. My plan, although not easy is to work slowly and diligently on my physical wellness, read some self help material - most of which will come from the Buddhist faith, and if I can find one close, I would like to join a mediation group.
So there you have it - - the plan. I've thought it out, understand the traps, know the possibility for failure, but plan to move ahead anyway - - - I have to! I need to! I want to! Stay tuned - - - -
Just like a large percentage of the world out there, I have fallen into the trap again and have been thinking about my resolution for awhile, but decided to wait until January 1 . . . cuz everyone else is doing it. Sometimes, I resolve to make a change beginning on a Monday or the first of the month. It is so silly to have a time reference, but we all do it. The rational part of the brain says, "why not now?". The irrational side sets a time frame so that I still have time to continue the way I am, down the path that needs changing.
Of course I chose to follow the irrational side so that I could maintain my lifestyle a bit longer and decided to start on January 1. I have resolved to have better health and to play a significant role in obtaining it. Shocker! Bet that has never been any ones resolution before!
I have had a lot of physical and emotional issues the last year. I absolutely 100% know that I have been the major contributor to those problems.
I am a very severe brittle diabetic on an insulin pump. I have not seen my endocrinologist (diabetic doctor) in over 2 years - - probably much closer to 3 years. I often act like I am not diabetic. I eat what I want, when I want, and how much I want. The same goes for the amount of alcohol I consume and exercise that I get. Unfortunately, I am on the abundance side of the food and alcohol and the severely lacking side of exercise.
I have been diabetic for nearly 20 years and I have some of the typical diabetic problems that people have when they have had diabetes this long. I have diabetic nerve damage from mid calf down to my feet and cannot feel anything. I get infections very easily and heal very slowly. When I am sick, it takes me 2 - 4 times longer to get better than the normal person. My eye sight is declining and changes frequently throughout the day. And I could name few more too. Some of the issues I have are irreversible, but others could be improved. All I know is that these things need to change or I am just going to continue to shorten my life and meet with an early death. Death scares me very much because I have not found an answer that I am comfortable with for an after life option and I have 2 children, 1 very young, that I would like to see grow up and become adults.
So - the plan. How am I going to accomplish, or at least even start my lofty goal?
Well, one thing that I did not wait for January 1 was to contact a new endocrinologist. I made contact with the new doctor last week. They needed a referral from my family doctor. My family doctor was more than happy to make the referral. He has been bugging me for a long time to get back to my endo. Referral was made, the new doctor called me and I got their first opening - March 2. Okay, that is a ways out, but at least the appointment is made.
Next, I plan to talk to the new doctor about a blood sugar sensor that can be used in conjunction with an insulin pump. I met a woman, Julie, on the cruise I took to the Bahamas in October. While we were laying out, I noticed she had a pump and I started a conversation with her. She has the sensor and told me all about it. It checks your blood sugar every three minutes and adjusts your insulin accordingly. Of course, I tend to play devils advocate in everything, and I can see how easy that would be for me to continue to eat whatever I want because the pump will adjust to whatever my blood sugar is. So that is a hurdle that I will have to face, but having the sensor will be nice to keeping blood levels reasonable, thus treating my organs better. Julie told me that she used to have bad A1C levels. A1C is a blood test that can tell the amount of blood sugar control you have had over an extended period of time. A tightly controlled diabetic should be able to achieve a level of 6.0 - 7.0. The last time I had mine checked, which was probably close to a year ago was 11.3 - not good at all. Julie said that with her sensor she was able to keep hers at about a 5.5 and she had always been at 9.0-10.0 before. That makes me hopeful. So, my goal of getting a sensor and getting my A1C level to a reasonable number is in place.
Oh the food - - I love food. I love to eat . . . all the time and all the wrong things. Seriously, I think I can make progress here because I have found in recent months that I enjoy some foods that are good for me. I have always been a very picky eater. I have freaked out about food when I am going into a situation that I do not know what the food is going to be. When I went to the Bahamas, I resolved to try many things that I had never tried before. I was pretty successful with that endeavor and found that I liked many of the things. I continue to try new things. The plan: I know that I need to stop buying the snacking/grazing foods and keep healthier foods in the house. I also need to begin to cook balanced meals at night. We are a very on the go and fend for yourself kind of family. That needs to change - - for the health of all of us. I am getting groceries after work tomorrow. Tonight, I am going to plan meals for the week. That should get a good start on the food goal. I am not gonna go crazy and toss out all the bad foods in the house, but as they are used up, I hope to replace them with better choices. However, with that said, I will not and will never give up pop. Just putting that out there. It is diet and caffeine free. That is the best it is going to get.
Next, the exercise. I don't really hate exercising . . . not really. I am fine once I get to the gym . . it's the getting there that I hate. I have bought fitness center memberships twice in the past. I have bought them here in Hartley. I don't like that you have to buy your membership for a full year. I wish we had the option to buy 3 or 6 months at a time. I really don't like going to the fitness center when it is nice out. I bought them anyway, for the full required year, and only used them for 2 -3 months each time. Membership to the fitness center is not cheap and so I felt that I wasted my money. I have vowed not to do that again. The solution came to me at work last week. There is a fitness center at the end of the street from where I work - - literally between 100 and 200 yards from one of the buildings I work in. Well, they have a special that they have offered to the employees at my company - 3 months (January 1 - March 31, 2011) free membership with no future commitments. They are also open 24 hours now. I don't know what the membership rate is after that, but I am sure going to take advantage of this opportunity. When the free part ends, it will be April and should be nice enough to be outside! I lost 40 pounds last year - - in a very unhealthy way (stress and starvation). I have put over 1/2 of it back on. I want that back off plus some more, but I want to do it right this time. So, my goal for excercise is staring me right in the face, I just need to reach out and grab it.
The alcohol - - I am a beer girl - - straight up Budweiser. Beer has lots of carbs, which increases the blood sugar and promotes weight gain. This is a toughy for me. I only drink when I go out, and I only go out on the weekends, so there is a little bit of a reprieve for me. I haven't really decided what I am gonna do with this one. I have tried lite beers - yuck! I have even had a sip of something 55 - even more yuck. The only mixed drinks I really like are wussy drinks, so they are full of calories and carbs. I dont have to drink. I dont crave the alcohol. I just like to go out with my friends, toss a few back, and have a good time. I probably don't drink more than 4-6 when I go out. I will need to check the carb and calorie count on this one. It may have to remain my one vice.
So, I have a plan for obtaining some physical wellness. Some things in the plan already have the ball rolling and others are ready to get out the door. I really hope that I have the will power and determination to do this . . . I need to do it . . . I want to live and not be so sick all the time.
Now, how will I obtain emotional wellness? Faith tells me that she believes that my emotional unrest comes from my lack of control over my physical wellness. I do not disagree. My plan, although not easy is to work slowly and diligently on my physical wellness, read some self help material - most of which will come from the Buddhist faith, and if I can find one close, I would like to join a mediation group.
So there you have it - - the plan. I've thought it out, understand the traps, know the possibility for failure, but plan to move ahead anyway - - - I have to! I need to! I want to! Stay tuned - - - -
Sunday, December 26, 2010
My First Marriage
My best friend, Faith, wrote this when I was still at the University of Northern Iowa finishing up my Bachelors degree and she was at Mankato State working on her Masters degree. It was written circa 1989-1990.
Love You Like A Boy
by F.E.Wagoner
I married you a long time ago,
some time after you hated me
for being smart and barging
into the trivia game,
sometime after you shot me in the back
with chocolate ice cream,
some day later than the night
you slapped me across the face
and I ran back to the room,
hid in a toilet stall
crying and hurting
knowing that your fingers
autographed my cheek
and I would have to explain to my roommates
and hate you for a day
or two.
I married you after we decided
that we were different from the others.
We liked to drink and slam dance (mildly)
and rebel against the Barbie dolls
in our hall
who liked Top 40,
spent 20 minutes in the shower
while we waited, cold and sleepy,
spent hours primping and curling
and teasing
before they went out -
we wore just jeans and sweatshirts
and kept our IDs and money
in a back pocket.
I married you
because I knew that what
I couldn't accomplish
you would,
what I couldn't fight
or stand up to,
you would and frequently did.
I was a sappy drunk then,
you hated it, hate me crying
in front of people when we were out -
I am bawling because he is dancing
with a Barbie doll
and you drag me to the bathroom
but we have to wait 'cuz
there are Dolls primping inside.
Furious with me -
I am still crying and ready to puke -
you push me hard,
launch me through the door
and knock a Barbie in the face
with my fist because I am trying
to save myself from pain.
Those girls are pissed
and ready to beat me
'til you step in and save me,
towering above them,
fist ready and mad as hell anyway
they know they've messed
with the wrong couple.
I married you long before
6:00 mornings walking back
from a men's dorm,
reliving the night
relishing our freedoms
and triumphs and hangovers,
groaning at a few bruises.
I go to sleep alone now
and you're not there
a few feet away mumbling in your sleep
or knocking your head on the light
as you climb the ladder to the loft,
I even miss you picking at your food
and bitching about my cigarette smoke
and how you should be sainted
for living with such a mess.
If someone tries to beat me now,
I may actually have the guts
to swing first
because I know you won't be
stepping in at the last moment,
and the Dolls don't matter
too much,
anymore.
Love You Like A Boy
by F.E.Wagoner
I married you a long time ago,
some time after you hated me
for being smart and barging
into the trivia game,
sometime after you shot me in the back
with chocolate ice cream,
some day later than the night
you slapped me across the face
and I ran back to the room,
hid in a toilet stall
crying and hurting
knowing that your fingers
autographed my cheek
and I would have to explain to my roommates
and hate you for a day
or two.
I married you after we decided
that we were different from the others.
We liked to drink and slam dance (mildly)
and rebel against the Barbie dolls
in our hall
who liked Top 40,
spent 20 minutes in the shower
while we waited, cold and sleepy,
spent hours primping and curling
and teasing
before they went out -
we wore just jeans and sweatshirts
and kept our IDs and money
in a back pocket.
I married you
because I knew that what
I couldn't accomplish
you would,
what I couldn't fight
or stand up to,
you would and frequently did.
I was a sappy drunk then,
you hated it, hate me crying
in front of people when we were out -
I am bawling because he is dancing
with a Barbie doll
and you drag me to the bathroom
but we have to wait 'cuz
there are Dolls primping inside.
Furious with me -
I am still crying and ready to puke -
you push me hard,
launch me through the door
and knock a Barbie in the face
with my fist because I am trying
to save myself from pain.
Those girls are pissed
and ready to beat me
'til you step in and save me,
towering above them,
fist ready and mad as hell anyway
they know they've messed
with the wrong couple.
I married you long before
6:00 mornings walking back
from a men's dorm,
reliving the night
relishing our freedoms
and triumphs and hangovers,
groaning at a few bruises.
I go to sleep alone now
and you're not there
a few feet away mumbling in your sleep
or knocking your head on the light
as you climb the ladder to the loft,
I even miss you picking at your food
and bitching about my cigarette smoke
and how you should be sainted
for living with such a mess.
If someone tries to beat me now,
I may actually have the guts
to swing first
because I know you won't be
stepping in at the last moment,
and the Dolls don't matter
too much,
anymore.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Lots of Questions, No Solution - - - Yet
The year 2010 has been a real struggle for me. I cannot remember any other year in my life that has been as tough for me as the last year has been. Many of you know none of it. Few of you know some. A couple of you know most. No one knows all.
I do not plan to confess anything here. My plan is to write about things and perhaps even to set forth a plan to grow, heal, and move on.
I know it is silly to blame it on the year. The year has nothing to do with it. Really, it is just a reference point. January is when I realized, or better yet, unexpectedly came to face some things that I had buried long, long ago. It is when I began to face, what I feel to be, the truth about things in my life and realize that they are not as they appear.
Don't get me wrong. The whole year has not been a total disaster. Good things have happened too. Kaci started pre school. I got to take 2 awesome vacations. Bills are paid. There's a roof over my head. I am warm (or cooled) when I need to be. I know if I took the time to think about it, my list would be very long.
So what about the things I consider to be not so wonderful. What could be so bad that I really question my happiness, my life's purpose, my legacy? Why do I feel unrest? What the hell has changed?
I have said and done things this year that I am not proud of. I never thought that I would do or say those things, but really, I have had that happen many times in my life. They are called life lessons.
I know that I am supposed to grow and learn from my mistakes, my life lessons. I think I have been pretty successful at doing just that. This year, I can't and havent. Instead, I question everything about my being, the choices I've made, the world that I live in, the afterlife (if there is one), and anything else that I have chosen not to deal with before, including buried memories.
So, how do I get past this? How do I move on? How do I grow? How do I rebury the things that should have stayed buried? Or do I rebury them at all? How do I embrace things in my life, choices I've made, things that I've done? How do I accept things for what they are?
For those of you who know me, you know not to tell me to pray about it, or give it to god, or do anything that takes it out of my control. I dont believe in god. I believe I am in control. I believe there is no pre determined plan for me and I believe that I am responsible for my destiny. It is not any gods will, it is my will.
With that said, then the easy answer is that I should just tell myself to snap out of it. Right? Right! If that was the case, then I wouldnt still be dwelling on the same damn issues many, many months later. The old cliche of "easier said than done" comes into play now.
I am trying to help myself. I have read some things that may help me to move on. My bestie gave me some great books that are awesome and I believe may just bring me some relief.
However, I think the thing that I really want to know, the real core of it all, the thing that I really want to figure out is not how to move on, but how to face it head on. I know that unearthing and facing things I had buried so long ago was not a good thing for me. At the time, I did not realize it, and even welcomed it, but it was actually quite unhealthy. It has made me face and question many things in my life. It has shaken me to my core.
I know moving on is good and desired, but I dont want to have to bury things again in an attempt to move on. I want to face issues head on, deal with them, and be done.
Again, easier said than done.
I do not plan to confess anything here. My plan is to write about things and perhaps even to set forth a plan to grow, heal, and move on.
I know it is silly to blame it on the year. The year has nothing to do with it. Really, it is just a reference point. January is when I realized, or better yet, unexpectedly came to face some things that I had buried long, long ago. It is when I began to face, what I feel to be, the truth about things in my life and realize that they are not as they appear.
Don't get me wrong. The whole year has not been a total disaster. Good things have happened too. Kaci started pre school. I got to take 2 awesome vacations. Bills are paid. There's a roof over my head. I am warm (or cooled) when I need to be. I know if I took the time to think about it, my list would be very long.
So what about the things I consider to be not so wonderful. What could be so bad that I really question my happiness, my life's purpose, my legacy? Why do I feel unrest? What the hell has changed?
I have said and done things this year that I am not proud of. I never thought that I would do or say those things, but really, I have had that happen many times in my life. They are called life lessons.
I know that I am supposed to grow and learn from my mistakes, my life lessons. I think I have been pretty successful at doing just that. This year, I can't and havent. Instead, I question everything about my being, the choices I've made, the world that I live in, the afterlife (if there is one), and anything else that I have chosen not to deal with before, including buried memories.
So, how do I get past this? How do I move on? How do I grow? How do I rebury the things that should have stayed buried? Or do I rebury them at all? How do I embrace things in my life, choices I've made, things that I've done? How do I accept things for what they are?
For those of you who know me, you know not to tell me to pray about it, or give it to god, or do anything that takes it out of my control. I dont believe in god. I believe I am in control. I believe there is no pre determined plan for me and I believe that I am responsible for my destiny. It is not any gods will, it is my will.
With that said, then the easy answer is that I should just tell myself to snap out of it. Right? Right! If that was the case, then I wouldnt still be dwelling on the same damn issues many, many months later. The old cliche of "easier said than done" comes into play now.
I am trying to help myself. I have read some things that may help me to move on. My bestie gave me some great books that are awesome and I believe may just bring me some relief.
However, I think the thing that I really want to know, the real core of it all, the thing that I really want to figure out is not how to move on, but how to face it head on. I know that unearthing and facing things I had buried so long ago was not a good thing for me. At the time, I did not realize it, and even welcomed it, but it was actually quite unhealthy. It has made me face and question many things in my life. It has shaken me to my core.
I know moving on is good and desired, but I dont want to have to bury things again in an attempt to move on. I want to face issues head on, deal with them, and be done.
Again, easier said than done.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Triggered Memory
My heart is very heavy tonight. I am on the verge of tears and am very sad. I got news today that a college friend's dad passed away on Thanksgiving. Andy's dad had been fighting cancer for over 2 years and then in late March his father was told that there was nothing else that could be done for him. Comfort measures were taken and he was told to live his life. Andy was very diligent in trying to be there for his family. He visited his parents every weekend and watched the slow decline of his father. He shared some of the journey with me and I could tell that it was very difficult for him. He tried to be strong for his family, and I believe he succeeded. Now, eight months nearly to the day, his father is gone.
I understand that death is part of the life cycle, but it doesn't make it any easier. I had only met Andy's dad on one or two occasions back in the late 80s. There was no real relationship and I seriously doubt that he would have even remembered me. I don't think that my heavy heart and sadness is for him. I think it is for Andy.
Thinking about Andy's loss and the experience of losing a parent takes me back to the loss of my own father in 2007.
My dad and I had an on again / off again relationship over the years. My parents divorced when I was 12 years old and my dad was a parent of convenience for a lot of years. I was the only one that had any sort of relationship with him when I became an adult. Even that relationship was very sporadic and was always initiated by me. In 2000, one of his sisters brought him to our hometown for a cousins wedding. I didn't even know that my dad was going to be there. He was staying at a local hotel. I arranged for all of his grandchildren to go to the hotel to see him. This was the first time he had met some of the grandchildren. It was a nice time and we have some great pictures of the event. When I was in the hospital in 2001 in his current city, he came to visit me. I made sure that he carried my phone number in his wallet so that I could be contacted in an emergency. I did have to be called a time or two.
It was easier to stay away from dad than it was to be with him. Dad was a severe alcoholic and had lost two families, jobs, housing, and many relationships due to his drinking. When I would see him, it was always in the bar that he went to and I never know what kind of condition or mood I was going to find him in. Staying away just became easier. Once in a while I would receive a call from the agency that was in charge of his money, but other than that, there wasn't much contact for a lot of years.
In 2006, I received a call to ask if I would become my dad's medical power of attorney, along with his oldest sister. I agreed, signed all the papers, but never made contact with him. In early 2007, my aunt contacted me and said that we needed to talk about dad's condition and his housing. I made arrangements to go visit dad and talk to him about it.
On January 20, 2007, I went to visit my dad for the first time in a very long time. The visit was good. It was very obvious that his health was failing and that he needed some intervention. He lived in a room above the bar that he always frequented. There were many rooms rented and then everyone shared a living area and a bathroom. Dad was so weak, he could barely make it to the bathroom which was just across the hall from his room, and there was no way he could negotiate the stairs to get down to the bar. After lots of talking with Dad and the agency that took care of his money, Dad agreed to move into an assisted living home. We moved Dad into the home on February 1, 2007. Dad loved the place. He had a 1 bedroom apartment, not just a room. The assisted living place was brand new, so he was the first tenant. He called it his castle. Gary and I got him all moved in and settled in. We had planned to come down and visit him the following weekend. That visit did not take place as we had planned.
Less than one week after moving in, Dad fell in his kitchen area. He was taken to the hospital. Later we found out that he had broken his hip and needed surgery. My aunt and I met at the hospital to help make some decisions for dad. He was quite medicated and could not advocate for himself, so my aunt and I took over. We were concerned about the surgery because Dad's lungs were very weak and we did not think that he would be able to go under anesthesia very well. With an epidural and very little anesthesia, Dad was able to have his hip fixed.
I spent the next week driving back and forth between the hospital and home. My aunt stayed in a motel near the hospital. Dad was not coming around like he should have. He kept floating in and out of reality. Finally we were faced with the reality that dad was much worse off than we had first suspected and we knew that he was dying. Another reality was that he would not be able to return to his assisted living apartment. After lots of talking and trying to figure things out, we decided to move dad to a nursing home. On a Wednesday, I called the nursing home in the town that I live in. On Thursday they came to the hospital and assessed Dad and agreed to take him on Monday. My aunt had to get back to her home, so she left a soon as plans were made on that Thursday. The following day, another one of dad's sisters came to stay there with him until his move to the nursing home on Monday.
I was exhausted. I had been driving back and forth to the hospital every day (1 1/2 hours each way). I had decided that I was going to stay home for the weekend and then ride with the nursing home driver to pick my Dad up on Monday morning. I planned to keep phone contact with my aunt over the weekend. Dad did OK through the weekend. He still wasn't recovering like he should have and was still floating in and out of reality, but he seemed to be holding his own. I had made contact with my siblings over the weekend to let them know what was going on and they were making their own plans to come visit Dad once he got to the nursing home.
Monday morning arrived with an early morning phone call from my aunt. She told me that I needed to come quickly. I called the nursing home and put them on hold for picking up my dad. Then I took off for the hospital. When I got to the hospital, my aunt was hunched over my dad and was crying. I thought I had not made it on time and he had passed away. What was really happening was that Dad was having a moment of clarity and they were having a heart to heart conversation. My aunt later told me that she was sure that dad was going to die before I got there and she kept telling him to hang on. Once I got there and got to my Dad, he stayed pretty clear minded for a little bit. We were able to have some good conversations. Throughout the rest of the morning, he floated in and out of clarity. The moments that he was "with" us, he tried to talk about regrets. I wouldn't allow it. I told him the past was the past. We had some good conversations off and on that morning. I was just his daughter and he was just my dad - nothing else mattered.
At 1:20pm, as I held my dad on one side of his bed and my aunt on the other, we walked Dad right up to death's door and watched him cross the threshold.
At first I was angry. Why should anyone have to go through that? What a horrible thing to have to experience! Once the anger passed, I realized that I was given a gift. I was given the opportunity to spend the last month of my fathers life with him - - the chance to let bygones be bygones - - the opportunity to have my daddy again. I also realized that my father was given a gift too. Although his clarity was come and go, he knew I was there and that I would take care of him.
So, now, as I put into words my own experience of dealing with death and losing a parent, I feel better. I am still very sad for Andy, knowing and somewhat understanding some of the things he endured over the past eight months. I, like Andy, was the sibling chosen to be the one to be there through the whole process, the one who dealt with things, and the one who watched it happen. I know that death is not the end of the process. There is still so much to do and deal with. I know that time heals, but the memories don't fade. I recall my experience as if it just happened. I also know that each experience and healing process is different for each person. I hope that Andy finds peace in knowing that he helped his Dad and gave him a great gift by being there for him. RIP Dick Wichert and RIP Daddy.
I understand that death is part of the life cycle, but it doesn't make it any easier. I had only met Andy's dad on one or two occasions back in the late 80s. There was no real relationship and I seriously doubt that he would have even remembered me. I don't think that my heavy heart and sadness is for him. I think it is for Andy.
Thinking about Andy's loss and the experience of losing a parent takes me back to the loss of my own father in 2007.
My dad and I had an on again / off again relationship over the years. My parents divorced when I was 12 years old and my dad was a parent of convenience for a lot of years. I was the only one that had any sort of relationship with him when I became an adult. Even that relationship was very sporadic and was always initiated by me. In 2000, one of his sisters brought him to our hometown for a cousins wedding. I didn't even know that my dad was going to be there. He was staying at a local hotel. I arranged for all of his grandchildren to go to the hotel to see him. This was the first time he had met some of the grandchildren. It was a nice time and we have some great pictures of the event. When I was in the hospital in 2001 in his current city, he came to visit me. I made sure that he carried my phone number in his wallet so that I could be contacted in an emergency. I did have to be called a time or two.
It was easier to stay away from dad than it was to be with him. Dad was a severe alcoholic and had lost two families, jobs, housing, and many relationships due to his drinking. When I would see him, it was always in the bar that he went to and I never know what kind of condition or mood I was going to find him in. Staying away just became easier. Once in a while I would receive a call from the agency that was in charge of his money, but other than that, there wasn't much contact for a lot of years.
In 2006, I received a call to ask if I would become my dad's medical power of attorney, along with his oldest sister. I agreed, signed all the papers, but never made contact with him. In early 2007, my aunt contacted me and said that we needed to talk about dad's condition and his housing. I made arrangements to go visit dad and talk to him about it.
On January 20, 2007, I went to visit my dad for the first time in a very long time. The visit was good. It was very obvious that his health was failing and that he needed some intervention. He lived in a room above the bar that he always frequented. There were many rooms rented and then everyone shared a living area and a bathroom. Dad was so weak, he could barely make it to the bathroom which was just across the hall from his room, and there was no way he could negotiate the stairs to get down to the bar. After lots of talking with Dad and the agency that took care of his money, Dad agreed to move into an assisted living home. We moved Dad into the home on February 1, 2007. Dad loved the place. He had a 1 bedroom apartment, not just a room. The assisted living place was brand new, so he was the first tenant. He called it his castle. Gary and I got him all moved in and settled in. We had planned to come down and visit him the following weekend. That visit did not take place as we had planned.
Less than one week after moving in, Dad fell in his kitchen area. He was taken to the hospital. Later we found out that he had broken his hip and needed surgery. My aunt and I met at the hospital to help make some decisions for dad. He was quite medicated and could not advocate for himself, so my aunt and I took over. We were concerned about the surgery because Dad's lungs were very weak and we did not think that he would be able to go under anesthesia very well. With an epidural and very little anesthesia, Dad was able to have his hip fixed.
I spent the next week driving back and forth between the hospital and home. My aunt stayed in a motel near the hospital. Dad was not coming around like he should have. He kept floating in and out of reality. Finally we were faced with the reality that dad was much worse off than we had first suspected and we knew that he was dying. Another reality was that he would not be able to return to his assisted living apartment. After lots of talking and trying to figure things out, we decided to move dad to a nursing home. On a Wednesday, I called the nursing home in the town that I live in. On Thursday they came to the hospital and assessed Dad and agreed to take him on Monday. My aunt had to get back to her home, so she left a soon as plans were made on that Thursday. The following day, another one of dad's sisters came to stay there with him until his move to the nursing home on Monday.
I was exhausted. I had been driving back and forth to the hospital every day (1 1/2 hours each way). I had decided that I was going to stay home for the weekend and then ride with the nursing home driver to pick my Dad up on Monday morning. I planned to keep phone contact with my aunt over the weekend. Dad did OK through the weekend. He still wasn't recovering like he should have and was still floating in and out of reality, but he seemed to be holding his own. I had made contact with my siblings over the weekend to let them know what was going on and they were making their own plans to come visit Dad once he got to the nursing home.
Monday morning arrived with an early morning phone call from my aunt. She told me that I needed to come quickly. I called the nursing home and put them on hold for picking up my dad. Then I took off for the hospital. When I got to the hospital, my aunt was hunched over my dad and was crying. I thought I had not made it on time and he had passed away. What was really happening was that Dad was having a moment of clarity and they were having a heart to heart conversation. My aunt later told me that she was sure that dad was going to die before I got there and she kept telling him to hang on. Once I got there and got to my Dad, he stayed pretty clear minded for a little bit. We were able to have some good conversations. Throughout the rest of the morning, he floated in and out of clarity. The moments that he was "with" us, he tried to talk about regrets. I wouldn't allow it. I told him the past was the past. We had some good conversations off and on that morning. I was just his daughter and he was just my dad - nothing else mattered.
At 1:20pm, as I held my dad on one side of his bed and my aunt on the other, we walked Dad right up to death's door and watched him cross the threshold.
At first I was angry. Why should anyone have to go through that? What a horrible thing to have to experience! Once the anger passed, I realized that I was given a gift. I was given the opportunity to spend the last month of my fathers life with him - - the chance to let bygones be bygones - - the opportunity to have my daddy again. I also realized that my father was given a gift too. Although his clarity was come and go, he knew I was there and that I would take care of him.
So, now, as I put into words my own experience of dealing with death and losing a parent, I feel better. I am still very sad for Andy, knowing and somewhat understanding some of the things he endured over the past eight months. I, like Andy, was the sibling chosen to be the one to be there through the whole process, the one who dealt with things, and the one who watched it happen. I know that death is not the end of the process. There is still so much to do and deal with. I know that time heals, but the memories don't fade. I recall my experience as if it just happened. I also know that each experience and healing process is different for each person. I hope that Andy finds peace in knowing that he helped his Dad and gave him a great gift by being there for him. RIP Dick Wichert and RIP Daddy.
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