O me O my.

Woke up this morning from a dream about Jim.
Started crying. "Come on", I say to myself, "That doesn't help".

The rest of the family arrived last night. Their plane was late so by the time they arrived I was asleep.

Today our Christmas Holiday really begins.

If Jim were here he would tell me its important for me to join in - to be part of the celebration.

We are here together - because he isn't here.

All our family is grieving too. I am the mother - but - - -
I don't know whether I can play "let's pretend" and join in. Or, be the mother.

At home, I live alone. Its a surprise to me that I have grown to like it. My grieving times are mostly very private. I get through them, pull myself together and then, face the world.

I had not thought about the fact that being in the family group in tight-knit surroundings I would feel very exposed - emotionally - often choking on my feelings.

In the books "on grief" they tell you that people say grieving makes people very selfish. People say people who are grieving think only of themselves. It must seem that way. But the truth is - at times you can't think beyond the ache in your heart . I think that's what some people don't understand.

I am sure I did not understand the aching loneliness of grief and how it colors the world before I started to feel and live with it.

A wise friend advised me to look at this situation as a "workshop". What have I come to learn from being here - in these circumstances?  Curious idea - not sure it will work for me - -

You mean this is another F-ing learning experience?

A for Effort

Let me tell you how I experience some aspects of grief. ** Yesterday I was sitting in a Starbucks on a busy street corner in Lafayette, CA. Christmas music filled the air. Despite my best efforts to hold them off tears started pouring from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.  I could not control it. ** I am out-of-my-home-area on my sentimental journey to California. For one week I have been "strong" - holding all feelings back. Acting like a "big girl". No crying. ** Now sitting in this very nice small Starbucks where Jim and I have had coffee in past years something has knocked down my defenses and I am crying.  Just a bit at first - and I work hard to push feelings down - because if the tears start I won't be able to stop them until they have dried out. ** I feel incredibly alone - and there is nothing to do but to face it. ** I miss Jim. Its that simple. ** When the realization that he is gone forces itself to the surface - it is absolutely too much. That sounds dramatic doesn't it. Well that is how it is with grief. It is dramatic and you work really hard to hide it. If you are grieving you get "credit" for not showing it.

Some Helpful Suggestions

Dealing with "FIRSTS" is hard. I expected Christmas to one of the toughest. Without too much thought I suggested that our immediate family gather at a neutral spot in California for the holiday. They agreed. At first it seemed a really good solution to a difficult problem. As my departure for my Christmas trip to California came nearer and nearer I found myself very nervous about visiting with Jim's family in his hometown. I was scared I would be overwhelmed by grief and sadness when I visited his home town which I knew well. I would also be seeing his sister and brother who had not been able to attend his funeral for the first time since Jim died. One day I decided to post a question on Facebook and ask advice on what to take with me on this "sentimental journey." People were generous with their suggestions. I am sharing them here in the hopes they will be helpful to anyone else going through a tricky or difficult situation. They have been for me.

Day by day

My dear friend wrote me again today and she describes exactly how I feel.

"you don't know how numb you are at first until the numbness fades, the calling and writing subside, daily life resumes, but the person who filled your personal sky is gone. The immensity of it really strikes home then."

Yes, indeed.

I picked some green leaves and red berries in our yard today and took them to Arlington to leave a bit from home for Jim's grave for Thanksgiving. Some chide me for going out there every week - but they just don't understand. Its comforting to me to be there close to Jim's resting place.

Today as I sat in the car on Roosevelt Drive near Jim's grave I played the 50s on 5 station on Sirius radio. The familiar tunes of that decade brought back images of those days when Jim and I first met, fell in love and married. I felt warm tears run down my cheeks but they were glad as well as sad. I am grateful for memories of those days when we were two young people in love.
It was a sweet time.

The pain is in the daily missing of Jim. As my friend knows and says its the loss of the person who was the everything of your life.

For me it is in having to face the days and the whims of the days alone without Jim to share in the decisions, to talk with, and to love.

For example - yesterday I had to have an unexpected medical test. Things turned out all right, thank God, but the process was scary and I missed Jim's large, warm and comforting hand on mine and his encouragement in facing it.

It did not help that the attending nurse, when she heard my husband died of Bladder Cancer, described how she had hated watching her father die of Lung Cancer.  Sometimes people leave you breathless. Fortunately the Fentanyl kicked in about then and I went to sleep. Unfortunately is was before the Versid so I remember it.

Today I hit a curb when parking the car on busy Connecticut Avenue and when I came back the right front tire on my precious new-to-me car was flat. My first reaction was a kind of panic. Once I would have called Jim - if not to do anything - at least to laugh at the situation. With no one to call I had to suck it up and figure it out...which I can do.  I called the dealership for starters and then Toyota road service sent a flat bed tow truck.  Now I know why I paid for the warranty which included that service. The most aggravating thing about it is - - it was operator i.e. MY error .

This is the getting used to daily real world stuff being changed. Its all mine now. As I wake-up from the fog of grief I am more able to handle it   - - - -  even through the numbness.

But each incident brings home the reality of the truth. Jim is gone. 

And as my friend says, recognizing that "is immense."

Firsts are Potholes in the Road

An old friend - a long-time widow - sent me a lovely "thinking of you and the holidays" letter. I decided to post my reply because it tells much of what it feels like right now. As well as some of  the things I am learning about what I can and cannot do with comfort and ease.

This is a new life. Nothing about it is like it  was before.

November 13, 2012

The timing on your note yesterday was truly amazing. And I deeply appreciate your thinking of me. It seems that as some of the "fog" lifts that the realization that Jim is gone - and for good - hits harder. That with time - its more not less difficult.  This grief thing is really a beast, isn't it?

And I know the holidays will be hard. I try to blind myself to the decorations and to the Hallmark TV movies but they seep through. I am flying to CA early December for the holidays. 3 months ago it seemed like a good idea - now I wonder. Just the prospect of the flight alone and into San Francisco makes me tear up. I am also going to Jim's hometown to see his family - how about that for walking on hot coals? All our kids and grandkids arrive a few days before Christmas so we will all be together. ( at a favorite time-share resort that Jim and I really enjoyed.) Did I say I was the one who thought this up? 

Some of the over-whelming emotion right now may be coming because I bought a car last week.  First MAJOR decision I have made in-my-life without Jim. It was not easy. I had to. The faithful red Toyota Van collapsed, poor dear - and the guy at the filling station refused to take any more money to keep it on the road. I was furious - and sobbing - but he was probably a real friend. After 12 years of dailies and great trips it is a powerful and real physical connection to Jim. I kept it - to sit in the driveway for awhile.

I love the new car by the way - found the perfect 2010 Toyota Van waiting for me on a dealer's lot. Had to go with the 2010 because Toyota has blown up the new ones so that they are school buses and I could not step up into them. The one I bought is a one-owner vehicle that is so pristine inside it looks like they never drove in it - well I can fix that quick enough. It has every electronic gimmick they made in 2010 - - including heated front seats which I have yearned for every winter. Jim would love it. In fact, from the serendipities that led me to the car, I think he sent me out there to buy it. Oh, damn - I guess I didn't do it by myself after all.

Thinking of you too and your clean sweeping to be ready to move. That's awesome. I hope I have the courage to follow suit come January. 

My cousin, Sandra told me ten years ago that the best thing to do was park a dumpster at the back door and pitch stuff out. I am thinking about it - but first, have to call the shredder truck to eat up 45 boxes of patient records that are stacked in the basement. Feels like I have one more funeral for Jim coming up. Is that how it is?

Are you ready for Thanksgiving? Did you decide to "order in". I am overwhelmed by the crowd you will have at your table - but - then - you are a couple of months younger  than me! 

Karen and I are going to my sister Lynda's in North Carolina for Thanksgiving. She is talking about cooking but I am I hoping we will eat at the nearest Cracker Barrel -  I tell you one thing I am really looking forward to - Lynda works at Southern Supreme during the holidays taking telephone order. She LOVES it, especially the owners and people who work there.  I want a tour of that place - to see everything and breathe it all in. The cake is fine but their PRALINES are out of this world.  Do you know about Southern Supreme - surely yes. 

Its great to hear from you.  Appreciate your sharing your understanding - not everyone does - but you have been there.

 A real hug. Thank you. I

Love,

Ellouise

Gretchen's Birthday

I bought a new car yesterday.
And it was hard
   and a little exciting.
 
   but always I boomerang back to the loss of what was
   more than what is ahead.

********************************************************************************
I am glad it is a warm sunny day. 

It is Gretchen's birthday. 


Our daughter Gretchen was born November 10, 1961 in Chapel Hill, NC.

Today is our daughter Gretchen's bitrthday. She would be 51 years old today. Last year we went to Arlington on her 50th birthday - a sad little group - happy to be together.

Now I go once a week and there are two there.

When It's More Than a Car

Leo speaking.

I am writing because this has been a really hard day for Ellouise.

Well, to start, Jim died eight months ago on the 6th of March so this is an anniversary - and what I have learned by watching Ellouise  is that anniversaries are very emotional. Even if you don't want them to be. The feelings just flood over you.

Well, if the anniversary wasn't enough - this afternoon she got some upsetting news.

Her car - a 2000 Toyota Sienna Minivan that has carried Ellouise and Jim on many great trips as well as kept them on the road for their dailies for 12 years - smells of leaking oil and she had been warned that it was seriously sick.  She took it to her local repair guy who has kept the van going for a dozen years. After four hours he called her at home and told her - "you have to get another car - this one is dangerous to drive and its going to take a lot of money to fix it - if they even can. Its like pouring good money down the drain. "

"You know I don't want to let that car go - for sentimental reasons I want to keep it."

" I understand, believe me, I understand. But I have to be honest and tell you the truth about this car. Its time for you to go car-shopping."

She was sobbing when she hung up the phone. In fact I have not heard her cry as long or openly since Jim died. Is that how this happens - people hold themselves together - and then something happens that taps into all the emotion that has been stored up?

I heard her telling her sister on the phone, "its not fair. I just went through getting his name taken off the title - which also cost $100  - like paying to stab yourself -
 and now I have to give up the car. It's like another death.
Isn't one death enough?"

She ended saying, "this is not fun" and I have to say I can understand why she feels that way.

For the moment things have quieted down and she is researching cars on the computer. She has narrowed down a few things that are important for her in another car . She wants a safe car - one that sits her up high like her present van and wraps her with lots of metal.  Oh, yes and she wants a car that doesn't cost a fortune.

Ellouise has never bought a car by herself and she admits that she doesn't know very much about the the mechanics of cars. When she looks at the cars she is drawn to the frills - like heated seats, hands-free telephone capability plus having USB ports and iPod connections as well as a built in screen for the GPS.  Not one of those has anything to do with how the car runs. The guy at the service station did tell her to "call" with any questions. She hopes he meant it.

What's the point of all this? Just to say that until I started watching Ellouise live "in-grief" I had no idea what it meant to be grieving.

Grief is not something a person "gets over".

Grief is sly and takes hold of the person who has lost someone they love - and hangs on like a snapping turtle - - 

Its not fun - it hurts.