Hidden

Today I’m reflecting on this line from the poem yesterday:

Let the Sun teach you that

no matter how long you’ve been hidden

you will always rise again.

HIDDEN. That is how I feel since the accident.

Like I’m hidden from the world.

I’m hiding at home. And in hospital rooms.

I had started to venture out, but now I’m hidden again.

Last night was the first night in weeks and weeks I joyfully made dinner and had an appetite to eat it.

I have been feeling so off. Maybe last night was a first step away from that feeling.

In the quote, it speaks of rising.

I’m not sure about that, but my word this year was EMERGE.

I suppose at some point circumstances will help me emerge into some kind of currently unimagined life.

Lord knows, I never would have imagined this one.

Showered and Written

Today when I got up, all I could do was write, write, write in my journal. There was so much information to process from yesterday. 

Jim and I have come to this moment sadly unprepared to deal with it. But there isn’t much I can do about that now.

In my writing, I made a plan for today. It’s just a plan, a thought, an idea, a process. I will speak to others about it. I will listen for helpful input.

After about an hour of writing and sipping coffee, the only thing I wanted to do was shower. I had not even had breakfast yet, so this is totally out of my routine. But I needed to wash off all the gunk from yesterday, all the fears and tears and “what are we going to do”s.

Another part of yesterday was spending a lot of time just staring at the clouds outside of Jim’s room. My friend Annmarie sent me this poem today, and the cloud part really got me. 🥹

Things got too heavy yesterday for sure. But today through the magic of gel pen, paper, and a lovely hot shower, I was able to release some of the weight. Now it’s on to my day: breakfast, counselor appointment, visit to Jim, more conversations. 

I have helpers…real humans and nature. I will not squander what they have to offer.

Stabilizing

Journal entry 8.27.24

Yesterday while I was waiting for Gina Wells to pick me up for my doctor appointment, I saw a huge eagle fly over our lake. It was followed by a smaller, younger one.

I consider eagle sightings auspicious, so was encouraged by this sign.

[for the readers: Gina is the wife of the guy who is subbing my classes while I’m out. I had never met her before. This is how strong my CLMS support network is. I am grateful.]

When I got in the car, meeting Gina for the first time, I told her of the eagle sighting. I told her in Native American mythology, it represented Spirit, and I felt it was telling me Spirit is with me.

While in my doctor appointment, Gina looked up online. When I came out, she read me this:

Find stability in yourself.

When I looked it up today, I found some additional words that can be stabilizing. 

STRENGTH. POWER. WISDOM. FREEDOM. DIVINE PROTECTION. SPIRITUAL GUIDANCE.

I’m feeling the strength to do what I need to do.

I will keep the power on my side —enough hopelessness and flying around at the whims of things.

I’m wise enough to know what’s happening here.

The only freedom I will feel is if I don’t get caught in anxiety about imagined future events.

Stabilizing is to feel the strength, power, wisdom and freedom of this important moment.

Each important moment.

ADDENDUM: I went to the hospital early today and met with the palliative care manager.

Jim signed a DNR.

Hospice care has been discussed, but his pulmonologist said to wait and see how he does the next couple of days.

Here is the moment.

Better

 I remember this anniversary dinner

Outdoor restaurant…it was hot!

Loved seeing our smiles here when things were better.

Talked to you this morning.

You said you’re doing better, but you won’t say “good.”

I myself am better, and perhaps approaching good.

The struggles of this summer are beyond compare.

I hang tight to memories

Of when times were better

And we were together.

Where Are You?

 You called my phone at 5:40 AM

A strange occurrence 

You asked

Where are you?

Then said

I need help.

Your brain was in a fog

You were struggling to breathe

And now you’re in the hospital

Where you are already improving

We pray this is a path to better care

You deserve nothing less.

View from hospital room

Unwritten

Today is my niece Cheryl’s 40th birthday. She is a writer, and so I sent her this song to celebrate her day and entry into a new decade of life.

I’ve always felt this song an inspiring message about our lives, how we write them day to day. It’s one of my personal favorites from the first decade of this century.

But as I watched the lyrics go by on the video, especially Staring at the blank page before you, I felt without the ability to write my own life again. With all the drama this year, I feel like someone has stolen the pen from me, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it back. 

Every time I think, Now I’m moving forward, something arrives to set me back. And not just one step, but several. As if health issues weren’t enough, being away from Jim is even worse.

I know I am writing here, and certainly this is a way I’m writing my life. I sometimes wonder why I can’t have just a teeny bit of control on how things go…why does everything have to be so difficult? 

I used to think it was all in my attitude; I just needed to find the “right” words and phrases to keep me centered. Truth is, I'm exhausted from the effort that takes. How hard I have to think about every move. How isolated I am here in my own home. It’s become impossible to think about anything but my own need in this exact moment.

It all feels so limiting. So out of reach. So NOT like how I live my life. 

I hope by getting these words down, I have written myself to a better place. After all, writing is about finding our truth. 

Here is mine.

Staying Afloat

The Democratic National Convention saved me this week. I watched every night but Monday, and thoroughly enjoyed the energy, enthusiasm, vibes, music, and message. It helped me stay afloat in a sea of darkness, my health once more at issue, and distance from my husband greater.

This is a photo from The New York Times, and it made me think…this is for all the girls of color I’ve taught through the years. It’s time we embraced diversity and a country that reflects the reality of the people who live here. There will never be true unity without it. 

This is the moment.

Thank you, Dems, for keeping my spirits lifted and alive.

Acknowledge It

I thought terminal cancer in a loved one was enough to deal with.

And losing our dear Wayne to same disease.

Then a head on collision got added to the mix. Huge struggle. 

My husband and I living in different locations.

And then surgery. 

I’m. Just. Plain. Tired. Of. It. All.

My suffering needs me to acknowledge it.

Everyone says One day at a time.

Take care of yourself.

But in this moment

All I want to say is I am suffering.

I’m tired of pretending otherwise.

There is no quick fix.

 

The Storm

This showed in in FB memories yesterday…Jim watching a storm building up…

I’ve been feeling the storms in my life.

Seems hard to get sunny days.

I wrote a letter to God yesterday and put it in my God Jar.

I asked for relief from the storms.

I asked for resolution to situations.

Later in the day I saw this quote and man, it hit me! 

It was a reminder to me I’m doing all I can do.

That it isn’t my job to fix things that are meant to be. 

I’ve definitely felt like a rescuer…failed on at that!

I wrote about these things in my journal today, 

then heard these words:

Don’t get caught in the storm.

Observe it. 

Let it rain itself out.

Let the scary thunder roar and lightning flash,

but stay firm in your understanding

this is the path you are meant to walk.

Use the umbrella of faith, trust, and knowing

ALL WILL BE WELL.

Every Step

Yesterday I decided that it might be time to get outside and walk. It’s been a very long time.

I was motivated by the fact that it is a bit cooler out than it has been (77 degrees rather than 85).  I also wanted to see how I did. I’m far from 100%, but felt a walk around the block might shed some light on my current physical state. I went out before the sun had come up over the buildings.

I was cautious of every step. I did stop to take a few pictures. The only birds I heard were the mourning doves, and the only animal I saw was this guy.

I’ll be honest. The walk was a challenge. I didn’t feel as grounded as I wanted to be. I will need to give this more time before trying again.

Laundry

I’m sitting here trying to figure out just what the big deal was.

Back around 1984 when Jim and I first started living together, we alternated weekly who did laundry. We also did the grocery shopping together every Sunday morning.

One day Jim informed me that he hated grocery shopping, and he didn’t really like how I did laundry. We made a deal then—I would shop, he would be the laundry man.

And that is how it has been all these years.

In the past year, despite his health issues, Jim has kept up with the laundry pretty well. He tends to let it accumulate for a long time, and then spends a whole weekend getting it all done. Pure drudgery, in my opinion.

Jim is the king of getting spots out. For years, my sister would call him for advice on various issues. I suppose now she is the queen of spot removal, having learned from the best.

But now he is not here, and I find myself on my own to get this done. We had purchased new washer and dryer in 2020 when things were sinfully cheap, and now I’m starting to learn the ins and outs of how to use these machines.

The first load I did, I failed to realize I had never washed a pair of burgundy yoga pants before. Some of my underwear came out delightfully tie-dyed in lovely pink and purple tones.

Twice I forgot the softener. Then when I remembered it, I put it in the detergent cup. 

I don’t wait for the basket to be bursting at the seams. When I see a load, I wash it. 

For years I wondered if I could ever do laundry again without resentment. Now I find it’s no big deal. What was I so concerned about?

Given that life keeps changing, I’m hoping that other things I tend to let gnaw on my brain turn out to be no big deal. 

And now that I’m finishing this essay after folding the clothes, I’m starting to wonder if I remembered to put in the detergent pod on this last load. Hmmm…

Do they look clean to you?

Be Fearless

 

So easy to fall into wishing things will be a certain way

Or being afraid of the “next bad news”

Today I commit to FEARLESSNESS

BE FEARLESS in loving

BE FEARLESS in taking care of myself

BE FEARLESS in writing and art

BE FEARLESS in trusting

BE FEARLESS in finances and safety

BE FEARLESS in physical therapy

BE FEARLESS in decision making 

BE FEARLESS in accepting things exactly as they are

38 Years

38 years ago today Jim and I went to the courthouse in Akron, Ohio and got married.

Today we were going to celebrate our anniversary with our favorite Mexican food for lunch.

Alas, the Universe had other plans, and he now has COVID. We are postponing the lunch since I have to visit his room wearing a mask and gown.

My iPhone made me this video, and decided to share it here. I had hoped to write a much longer piece today, one I’ve wanted to write for a while, but I’m currently worn out from the roller coaster ride I’m on. 

Okay, not just that. I have started physical therapy and oh my, needed this more than I even knew.

Happy Anniversary to my love.  I treasure every day we have together.

The Love Remains

 My brother Matt is the caretaker of the big box of photos from my mom’s house.

He occasionally pulls our photos we have forgotten about.

On my birthday this year, this is the one he posted.

It was my 19th birthday in 1974.

I was working at a fast food restaurant and getting ready to go to computer school.

I’m wearing a top made for me by my friend Cathy.

It had little cartoon figures of Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

And wide leg bell bottoms, of course.

I never wore shorts.

I’m here with my brother Richie.

He would not make it to his next birthday.

By my next birthday this picture would not be possible.

I meditated on this photo this morning.

I find it curious the way I’m holding his arms.

I may have stopped him from playing to get in the picture.

I may be holding on because I know I’m losing him.

In 1974 there wasn’t much hope for those with leukemia.

Summer days and birthdays are universal

As is loss.

Health issues can devastate and change.

Thank goodness the love remains.

Good * True * Beautiful

 Meditating on this quote today….

GOOD

…those who care for others

…those who help us see the way

…those who tell us of our gifts

TRUE

…where connections bolster, not break

…friendships and marriage

…where souls and spirit meet inside of us and between others

BEAUTIFUL

…our natural selves, the way we were created

…our compassion and love

…our genuine trust in the universe to provide all we need

We are never without

GOOD * TRUE * BEAUTIFUL

Monday Gratitudes

 

I am grateful for the changes that have occurred.

Positive changes.

Yesterday, for the first time in a week,

I could envision Jim getting strong enough to come home.

We had a good morning.

He cleaned up, trimmed his beard,

He rolled himself outside to see our new car.

We made little plans for our anniversary coming up.

I relaxed fully in the afternoon,

The constant worry I’ve felt having subsided.

I know there are still more challenges to come.

I’m just grateful for a respite from the craziness.

Fragility

My friend Kara gave me a book that is helping me with the emotional state I’m in. It’s part self-help, part humor, part coloring book. It’s full of great reminders for me.

Today I was reading along and came to a page about dandelions. The author, Jenny Lawson, explains how she always thought she was a dandelion, and certainly this resonates from me. Back in my National Writing Project days we had a saying: Don’t be afraid of the lawnmower. We even got dandelion shirts.

Lawson describes the dandelion process, how just when it is given up for dead “it explodes into an elaborate globe of spiderweb seedlings so fragile that a wind or a wish sends it to pieces.”

She continues:

But the falling apart isn’t the end.

It depends on the falling apart.

Its fragility lets it be carried to new places, to paint more gold in the cracks.

I always thought I’d like to be a dandelion.

But I think, in a way, I already am.

I feel each day I’m facing my fragility anew. Every day there seems to be a new level of falling apart. I rated my mood today as “okay” and said I felt sad, fatigued, grieving, and powerless.

Yup. Fragile.

I woke with the intention of setting small goals and reaching them. I allowed myself to lie in bed yesterday afternoon, watching television, reading, and napping. Taking care of myself is a necessity, not a  privilege.

I want to start feeling the falling apart as a more positive experience than I have been thinking it is. There have been so many adjustments this week, and there will be many more coming. My friend Annmarie said the other day that maybe being strong isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. (Not a direct quote!) Perhaps I’m forcing strength in an unnatural way for this situation. 

Maybe I just need to trust the process of the dandelion. Let myself have bright yellow moments, break through the cracks moments, blow it all away to a new life moments. 

I’ve had a lot of each this past week, now that I think about it. It’s easy to remember the frustrations, but it’s okay to remember there were good moments, too.

And I’m reminded of a song by the Rolling Stones:

Dandelion don’t tell no lies

Dandelion will make you wise

Tell me if she laughs or cries

Blow away, dandelion

[Fun fact: Keith Richards has a daughter named Dandelion.]

Are We There Yet?

 

This about says it all.

What a trying week in so many ways. 

I am grateful that yesterday Jim finally seemed to be coming out of his slump.

So much to handle every single day.

I am tired to the core. 

I am falling back on TRUST,

But that doesn’t take the deep exhaustion away.

It is to the point I have got to get my physical needs in priority.

This is not sustainable.

But then I remember, I’m essentially a caretaker.

I have to keep on keeping on…

TRUST

 

TRUST

When the world feels like it’s aflame

Move forward into the unknown and

TRUST

There is a plan

And it works

And it’s beneficial to all concerned

No need to look ahead

With what-ifs

Just

TRUST

It calms the spirit

The word alone

Takes it all down a notch

I saw evidence yesterday

This works

Just

TRUST

Joy Rushed in

Journal entry 8.8.24

Accept this cup that is offered every second. —Rumi

Yesterday—whew

Saying goodbye to Scott and Braydon was an occasion for lots of tears.

Then my counseling session.

Then to Ambassador where Jim’s blood oxygen was still low.

Then talking with my substitute John about curriculum, and setting some things up for him.

Exhausting. I needed a nap.

But instead I went back to Ambassador. I saw the doc. She saw Jim and ordered some tests.

My stomach began to hurt.

I had not been taking care of myself, or listening to the signals.

Jim said, GO HOME.

I did that. I rested. I got a phone call from someone I really needed to talk to.

That was a turning point.

Suddenly I felt much better.

I watched Kamala and Tim from the Wisconsin rally.

This political season will forever be wrapped up with this crazy summer of heaps of health issues.

I talk about joy a lot here, but lately it felt like something elusive and out of reach.

Yesterday, I decided just to cherish the day.

And then joy rushed in.

Suddenly everything just felt okay. I can’t even explain it.

This quote says it all:

There’s a word I have forgotten.

TRUST.

I can see so much of my angst was relating to not trusting.

So…I understand the assignment.

Try again!

Where is Joy?

 Despair treats you like an anonymous nobody.

Joy calls you by name.

—Connie Schultz—

Where is joy?

It’s in the moments I let things be what they are.

Even if my heart is breaking.

Am I looking at reality?

Or am I giving up too soon?

I wish I knew.

Birthday Gratitudes

 Today I turn 69-years-old, an age my father never met.

I am grateful I survived a devastating car accident.

I am grateful we paid off our house yesterday.

I am grateful Scott and Braydon are here.

I am grateful kind people are taking care of my husband.

I am grateful for friends that continue to reach out.

I am grateful to all who have supported this difficult healing process.

I am grateful my workplace smoothed the way for me to be home.

I am grateful for music and books that sustain me.

I am grateful that every time I feel ungrounded, I find ways to get my footing.

Ups and Downs

 Every time I get a grip and feel I know my direction, a new challenge shows up.  

Right now all I can do is try to rely on this promise. 

It’s hard.

Bring Joy (acrostic)

 

Bringing joy is my job now

Reflecting the goodness that is always within grasp

It is easy to get down when faced with reality

Not something that is easily overcome

Getting the right state of mind is essential

Joy can be generated and shared

On this rainy, windy day I will smile and surpass

Yesterday’s blues —Joy is here.

Space…Nothingness

Become familiar and comfortable with the notion that nothingness 

has something to offer you on your path. —Wayne Dyer

Space…nothingness

It is the space between the notes that makes the music

It’s the emptiness of the vase that allows for beauty to be displayed

Likewise, this open space in my life

Is here to serve me somehow

I know there are many things to come

That I will have to do

And I can only see so far down the path

Yet, nature moves on

The planets spin

And likewise I let the natural cycle

Take its course

In my space I embrace

Everything in Divine Order

Intention

 

Journal Entry 8.2.24

Today I was to be starting year 21 of my teaching life -- my planned final year.

Life has had other plans for me, and as the summer ends for all my teacher friends, today I feel it's beginning for me.

My accident, injuries, and Jim's health have been all-consuming. I've watched as friends took magnificent trips to the top of the Andes in Peru to zip-lining in Puerto Rico. The idea of any of these things seems far away and unrelatable to me right now.

As does teaching. Simply no way my brain can go there.

Today, however, still promotes an inner shift. I looked back at a quote I had saved in my photos for inspiration, and came upon this:

 

It's rare to hear the name Wayne Dyer these days, but there was a time he was everywhere. His popular psychology was easy to understand and he was personable and approachable. He produced books and appeared on Oprah and had his own shows on PBS stations. He was a friend of my minister when I was attending Unity of Greater Cleveland, and he spoke to our congregation more than once. I have two books autographed by him: Real Magic and Your Sacred Self. These books were guides for me in my late thirties.

Today I got curious about something I remembered I found highly inspiring and life-altering in one of his books. Back in the day, I had returned to it over and over again. I couldn't recall exactly what it was, but it was easy to find because I had kept a bookmark on the page, the number being circled and the quote highlighted:

The secret to changing your life is in your intention. (Real Magic p. 76)

When I read this over thirty years ago, I remember how it transformed my view of what was possible -- and how it is always up to me to make the most of any situation.

For weeks now -- probably months -- I have not thought much about my intentions for myself -- at least not in those terms. I've let Jim's health and other circumstances run the engine. If I had any intentions, it was related to teaching and how I was going to address the course I've responsible for teaching in a new way. As of now, that's not happening.

But I have not replaced with any other intentions. When teaching was ripped away, I had no replacement.

Today I realize it's time to think beyond the immediate. I'm in a place in my healing that I feel it's possible.

I've said over and over these past few weeks that everything feels like a big question mark. Now I think that perhaps with considering what my real intention might be, I can move away from question marks a to periods, or maybe even exclamation points. Wouldn't that be something!!!

I know I cannot rush my healing. I know I cannot predict what will happen with Jim. But I feel there is some kind of intention I can put into place that will empower me a bit.

It has to be just right, because times are tender. I don't know what it is yet.

My intention is to find out. And as the quote above says, I need to do it in the context of what life currently is. That is the only way I can do this in a way that will bring peace.

August

 

I’m sending a prayer out to the Universe

God, the angels, whoever

That August may land as light

As a feather on my life

The ups and downs are wearisome

May I feel light

Have light

See the light

A few hours after I wrote this, I saw this on my FB feed. 

Felt like a response.