Year in Review 2024…and an Ending

 

For a while I have been finding it difficult to get myself to this blog. I will write entire things out in my journal that I think I want to share, but somehow I never get to the blog. I feel an aversion.

On Saturday I had an epiphany. This blog I began in spring of 2017 has run its course. The life I had then and subsequent years is gone. Not just that. 2024, with my commitment to write every day (although not achieved) seemed to cap the entire experience. The trauma, drama, agonies, and difficulties of 2024 lay heavy in this blog.

Time for a fresh start. 

One of the things I've avoided doing is the Year in Review in Photos that usually I'd do on or about January 1st. I decided if I am going to end this blog, I need to do it with the Year in Review.

I will be introducing my new blog, which is already named and set up, very soon. Meanwhile, enjoy my walk through the joyful parts of 2024 that are worth remembering. The tragedies loom so large that it is good to remember it wasn't all doom and gloom. 

YEAR IN REVIEW 2024

Feeling Connected

Kara and I visit the Butterfly House

In January, Kara and I made our first visit to the Peace River Botanical & Sculpture Gardens. On a gorgeous day, we studied sculptures and plants and works of art and butterflies. It included a boardwalk out to the river where there was a gathering of loons migrating through. It is a simply amazing place, and I hope to get back there very soon.

Moments with Loved Ones

The captions under these pictures tell the story. I am grateful for every moment with friends and family.

Iris and I met at Copperhead Books. November

Amy and I dined at Lan Xang. August

With Braydon as he tried black grouper!

With Scott at Salty Papa's Shrimp

Seeing Hamilton with Pam--May

Feeling Hopeful

In early August Jim was moved to a rehab facility, where we believed he would build up strength to come home. There were many setbacks right from the start. But on the day this picture was taken, there was hope in the air. He had asked me to bring his razor, and he trimmed his beard. He looked so good, I took a picture.  A few months later I looked at this picture and saw the intensity of his blue eyes, and how closely he was looking at me.  A day or two later he would get COVID, and his decline would begin in earnest. I see this picture and I think of that last day I held out legitimate hope that he would come home and we'd be together again.

Highlight of the Year

Without a doubt, the day that marked one of my highest moments was the gathering on November 9th to remember Jim. After years of watching him decline, it was absolutely wonderful to hear all the memories over the last 40 years when he was young and vibrant and we interacted on a regular basis with family and friends. I had no idea this celebration of his life would lift me like it did. I have written about it previously and posted the pictures, but I am posting them again so they are part of this record. 

One of the things I will remember most about this day was when Scott said the ceremony made him realize he is more like his dad than he ever thought. 

Susan and Natalie were lighthearted in comments

Stacy provide moving memories

CLMS always shows up for me. GRATEFUL

Makes Me Smile

After Jim passed, I rejoined Iona-Hope Episcopal and made fast friends through various activities. Trish is by far one of my favorites of all my new buddies. We sat together at the Christmas dinner and she taught me how to do the Princess Diana look for the camera to eliminate a double chin. Her advice: head down, roll eyes up. Here we are doing our best Diana.

Meaningful Moment

Christmas morning I took a remembrance of Jim to Bunche Beach and left him in a meaningful place. He is now in one of his favorite places: out in the Gulf with the sky and the birds and the underwater animals. It is so much better than a graveyard!

Feeling Connected, Part Two

Jim and I ended up having several weeks apart. The entire time I was in the hospital and separated from him and just wanted to be with him to hold his hand. I kept thinking we had so little time left together, and honestly, I was afraid I'd never hold his hand again if I didn't get out of there. He was going through so much and no one was there to comfort him. It was heartbreaking for me.

When I got home, the very first thing I did was get to the rehab center, and then I just sat and held his hand. I am so grateful I had the foresight to take this photo. It means the world to me. It represents every day together, how we were always there for each other, even from afar. But, of course, this physical contact was way better. If anything represents 2024 it is this. 

"The plot and the purpose..."

It is late afternoon on New Year's Eve, and I meant to get this out sooner. It is mostly my journal entry from this morning. I had a wonderful day seeing A Complete Unknown and having lunch with a friend. Then I visited with my neighbor. Life is busy.

I have not shed many tears since Thanksgiving, although I did this morning when I realized I won't have Jim here at midnight to wish Happy New Year and a kiss. But, that's okay. I had a little cry and now I'm fine.

For many months of 2024 I prayed for this year to end more times than I can count. And now we are here, the waning hours. Finally.

What a year it has been.

Yesterday, I listened to my 2024 playlist, the one I started and continued to add on to throughout the year. I started with three songs, and continued to add (and sometimes subtract) as the year went on. The songs tell the story of my year; every up and down is represented.

It helped me know I definitely need a new playlist for 2025. I already know it will start with "Here Comes the Sun." I need a new collection to motivate, inspire, and calm me.

This year my word was EMERGE. For a long time I did not know how it was manifesting. But now I can see I had to emerge out of a life that was unsustainable. I couldn't teach forever. Jim couldn't keep getting ill without it catching up to him.

It was not the way I had imagined the word "emerge" when I chose it. I thought I'd have more agency, more choice. Instead, it felt thrust upon me. Emerge, dammit!

I can't argue with the God that chose this for me. I am grateful for everything good that has come my way because of the repeated challenges. 

A shift is happening now with the new year. My wound is close to healed. The holiday respite is over, and January will demand attention on things I've easily let slide. I have been wondering if I am ready.

The answer is yes.

I just pray 2025 lands gently. I have mighty helpers on my side, no matter what. That will never change.

*

The third song on my playlist was Jimmy Buffett's "Bubbles Up." I wrote about it earlier this year, but it deserves more attention. Apple Music says it is the song I listened to the most this year, and I know it is true. It was my constant go-to because of the message and Jimmy's voice. Neither can be beat.

Bubbles up

They will point you toward home

No matter how deep or how far you roam

They will show you the surface

The plot and the purpose

So when the journey gets long

Just know that you are loved

There is light up above

And the joy is always enough

Bubbles up

Linda Lavin and Jimmy, too

Yesterday was a double whammy for those of us who were adults in the 1970s.  Two American institutions have left the planet. Although they circled in different spheres, somehow they have been ever present in my life for fifty years.

Jimmy Carter was the first president I ever voted for in the Bicentennial year of 1976. His legacy is well-known, so no need to go into it here. Suffice to say I always admired the heck out of him and his wife.

Linda Lavin became popular in a show called Alice based on a movie called Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, one of the first movies that saw women as whole human beings. I remember seeing it at the theater and it was different than anything else I’d ever seen. She had a never-ending career, even as she aged. It says a lot about her as an actor and a person.

When I heard Jimmy had died, well, no surprise. He was 100-years-old and had been in hospice care for over two years.

When I heard Linda died, I wasn’t surprised because I knew she had to be up there in years. (She was 87.) 

But my first thought was that I won’t get to see her in season 2 of the Netflix show No Good Deed. The show itself is a mini-masterpiece, and Linda had a small part as a nosy neighbor. Even though the part isn’t regular, she gave the character strong presence and purpose when she did show up. She held the secrets of the neighborhood. The fact that I thought of this immediately gives testament to two things: the utter brilliance of the show, and the fact that Linda Lavin was the perfect choice to play Phyllis Adelman. 

RIP to two American legends. We are grateful for your contributions to our lives.

What She Knows

Spontaneous poem written by starting with last line in a poem called “The Weaver” by Pat Schneider.

What she knows she knows

There is life after a death

There can be good days

Happiness

It has to come from within

No one can do it for her

There is no hole or gap

Just light shining consistently

Her name means light

And she lets it show the way

On how to weave a new life

The one she always knew she’d live.

That one wild and precious life.

Rest Easy

When I received the touchstone with some of Jim’s ashes in it, I was also given a vial of leftover ashes in case I wanted more things made. Instead, I wanted to to figure out a place to sprinkle those ashes. I decided on Bunche Beach.

It is tradition for me to walk Bunche on Christmas. I’ve done it for years. Last year, I felt strongly it was our last Christmas together, and I asked Jim to join me, even though he was too ill to walk. At the time he was just starting to show signs of what was to come.

This year has been one of turmoil and health issues, and I really am not sure if I’ve been there since last Christmas. There were a lot of changes. I was greeted by this message:

I knew where I wanted to send the ashes, and so made a short walk down the beach. There were more people there than usual—some years I have been the only one there. I wanted to have private space for what I was going to do, and thankfully that worked out.

My idea was to visit a tree I’ve been visiting for over a decade. It has been a place I went to reinforce visions I’ve had for what I want to do and be. It was not a living tree, but one that had a hole where I would drop shells I had spoken my wishes into. 

No surprise that after this hurricane season, the tree was just a leftover stump. But there, in that container, were the shells I left over the years. I sprinkled some ashes into it.

I then turned to the water. If Jim wanted to be anywhere, it would be on the water. I sprinkled the rest of the ashes into a waterway that will carry them into San Carlos Bay and eventually into the Gulf of Mexico.

This is the overview of where I left the ashes.

On the way back, rays came down from the heavens, completing the ritual. 

I didn’t feel the need to shed a tear.

It was perfect. 

Rest easy, My Love.

What Life Can Be

 I finally got in the car

And drove down to Fort Myers Beach

I was motivated by a book signing at

Annette’s Book Nook 

As well as the collection of books I’ve

Had ready to take to the her

Since last June.

Going over the bridge, colorful building were still in sight

Margaritaville squeezed in

And then a long stretch

With a lot of open spaces.

Only the sturdiest building remained.

I contemplated how I can bring a more youthful approach

To my life

And make more space for fun

I suppose in a way I was hit with my own kind of hurricane

This year

The changes, the losses, the realities

But the Architect of the Universe

Has built a strong structure inside of me

Everything will take time

And that is what I have

Time to create openings for new visions

Of what life can be.

2025 will include plenty of reading & writing

Solstice Gratitudes

 

I am grateful for books and music

I am grateful for my support systems

At Iona-Hope Church

Cypress Lake Middle School

My neighborhood

My enduring teacher friends far and wide

My classmates from SJA class of 1973

My family

Those that make me laugh

Those that cry with me

I am grateful for counselors and nurses

I am grateful for the level of health I do have

And that I am getting stronger every day

I’m grateful for my home

And that I have had so many holiday invitations

As the picture above illustrates

There appears to be duality in our lives

But it is all Oneness

Nothing is ever lost

So it doesn’t need to be found 

Stopped in My Tracks: Poem

I continue to enjoy going to my Lectio Divine group every Monday afternoon, and am now starting to assist in finding passages for our four part study and sharing. I offered to do December 30, with the idea of finding something for the new year.

I never expected to find what I did. When I read this poem, I had this overwhelming feeling of awe that something could address so many aspects of my life, including the word EMERGE, which was my word for this year.

Sandy, our leader, feels this is a perfect poem for us to do on the 30th, and I will sink into it deeper then. Right now I am just reading and letting the words wash over me, knowing I will continue to find this a map of sorts for the life I am now living.

FOR A NEW BEGINNING 

by John O'Donohue

In out-of-the-way places of the heart, 

Where your thoughts never think to wander, 

This beginning has been quietly forming, 

Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire, 

Feeling the emptiness growing inside you, 

Noticing how you willed yourself on,

Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety 

And the gray promises that sameness whispered, 

Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent, 

Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled, 

And out you stepped onto new ground,

Your eyes young again with energy and dream, 

A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear 

You can trust the promise of this opening; 

Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning 

That is at one with your life's desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;

Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk; 

Soon you will home in a new rhythm,

For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

Stopped in My Tracks: Fortune Cookie

I cannot believe I haven’t written on this blog in almost two weeks. It isn’t that I hadn’t thought of things to write about. It was more about gathering the focus to do so when other things were swirling around me. These last few weeks have found a decrease in the meetings and paperwork and such I was doing for so long, and has been replaced with parties and gatherings and decorating and my first book club meeting. 

One thing that occurred more than once is a moment of awe —something showed up that stopped me in my tracks and made me take notice. It helped turn the prism a little to see a slightly different color. I will be sharing these in the next few blogs, and will watch for new ones as I venture through life.

The first one came in a fortune cookie:

I had just finished my meal and opened this cookie and was stopped in my tracks. I set the message down on the counter and it has been there ever since. This little slip of paper gave me permission to not feel like I have to do anything. Sure, there are a gazillion things I can be doing around here on any given day. I will know when to do those things. And for the most part, it isn’t today, or maybe even this week. I am well aware I am still in healing mode, and grief mode, and pushing myself through cleaning out drawers or closets does not sound like where I need to spend my time. Instead, I socialize, read, enjoy binge-watching shows, and make sure I get good food in me every day. 

And breathing. Always breathing!

I don’t have to take care of everything. I only have to take care of me.

Just Living My Life

I recently joined Blue Skies, a social media site that has recently gotten popular. I find some good stuff on there, totally different than being on Facebook.

There is a writer/writing teacher that shows up on my feed named Joseph Fasano.  I need to investigate more about him, and today’s post really got me interested. I think I could use some creative inspiration like what happened here:

I don’t have his prompt, but I am going to write my version here spontaneously, based on affirmations I’ve given myself today.

AFFIRMATIONS

My energy returned today

I took some bold steps in my financial wellness

I let the blue sky draw my attention and bring me rest

I took care of things and that means mostly me.

I am living a new story, one I expected

A lot of the crazy emotions I’ve had

well, they have calmed down

I am off the roller coaster for now

and just living my life.

That’s the way it should be.

It’s about time!

 

The Pulling of Opposites

I didn’t write yesterday, and wasn’t planning on writing today because words seem to be hard to form.  My energy is on the low side, and I’m in a bit of a lull. Yet, I blew through the things in my “to-do” list before 8:30 this morning.

Then I saw this quote from Brene Brown in FB Memories and thought, yes, this is it:

Opposites are pulling at me constantly. I cried in church, then later was full of joy when walking the labyrinth.

My wound is healing but there is a great deal of swelling, making my belly feel sore and heavy. It is slowing me down and yes, feels a tad concerning. I’m going to my doctor tomorrow.

Last night my Lectio Divina group had a dinner. A lovely woman named Vicky gave us all reversible Christmas placemats she made. I was touched by her generosity and artistry. Okay…no opposite there. The evening was perfect.

I hate running the heat, yet today I keep turning it on and off.  Everything right now is too hot and too cold. Not quite me, but fully me somehow. 

It’s exactly what Brene says: stretch-marked and strong, worn and willing.

It’s okay to not know what this is about, and just go with it. Everything sorts itself out in time, right?

That Part of Me

While reading a novel yesterday,

the book The Year of Magical Thinking

by Joan Didion was mentioned.

I knew that she wrote it about the year after her husband died,

and even though it was published in 2005,

and I had avoided it until 2022, when I faced my fear

and read it.

There was a singular part

that stood out to me

when I read the memoir,

and I needed it yesterday.

See, I’ve been feeling off balance and unable to determine why.

But now I know.

The part of me reflected in Jim’s eyes

is gone.

It can’t be otherwise.

It’s what we lose and have to repair when someone dies.

I’m finding it difficult to lose the anxiety on this.

I looked up the review I wrote on Good Reads,

and just as I suspected

I had documented the part that mattered most.

That spoke the loudest.

As it does today.

I have to allow the mourning is not just for Jim,

but for who I was in his presence.

My anxiety is that I am not sure who I am without him. 

I am hoping that knowing this will help me move forward

without looking for something that is no longer there.

Change (it’s okay!)

On Thanksgiving day I read a poem called “thankful” by ullie kaye.  There were a few lines that stood out to me, so I’ve decided to put them here with chosen images, so I may remember.

i am thankful for skies that change color

for paths that change direction

and for seasons that remind me we are all just one breath away from a new beginning

A Sudden Calm

I’ve been feeling a bit more off balance than I’d like, and doing everything I can to get a grip. It comes and goes and I’m wishing I felt more solid.

Taking time to be with friends these last few days has been good, but I’m still feeling some anxiety.

After I wrote my blog yesterday, I was reading other things and it all started to get to me.

Then I read Matthew Dicks’ blog which is emailed to me every day. You may recognize the name—he’s the storyteller who created Homework for Life, a practice I continue.

Anyway, his blog was about meeting a friend in despair over the state of our world, and he talked to his friend, sharing the difficulties of the past—concentration camps in Germany, the draft during the Vietnam War, the economic issues of the 1970s — and he assured his friend that we all come out of these things by taking small steps. He ended the blog saying “In every small way, find a way,” and with this image:

I felt an immediate calm.

I’ve never seen this image before, but yesterday I never needed something as much as it. All I could do was stare at it. I didn’t even want to think about the meaning.

But today I did write about it in my journal:

I look at this truncated tree, and the instrument that did the damage. I feel it is my life that got cut down—my teaching life and my married life. And I’ve always known and felt there would be new directions for me, things I can’t imagine right now. So I see this so perfectly rendered and it moves me deeply. It removes anxiety. It’s factual.

This happened. 

And is still happening

In every small way, find a way.

Thanksgiving Gratitudes (of course!)

 I am grateful for three days spent with friends this week

And especially for the dinner I will be having today

The first holiday without Jim present.

I am grateful for you, my family and friends, who read this blog

Cheer me on

Comfort me.

I am grateful for all the medical professionals who helped us through this year

Of unprecedented hospital visits

And Hope Hospice as well.

I am grateful to everyone at Cypress Lake Middle

Always there for me.

I am grateful to my neighbors who have done so much for me.

I am grateful to those who have reached out across the miles,

Calling and writing and sending cards

Especially the SJA class of 1973.

I am grateful for my new church home

Providing the anchors I need.

I am grateful for all who helped me pull my retirement together,

Which was no small feat given my husband was dying.

I am grateful my healing from that horrible infection

Has been consistently good.

I am grateful for professional advice I’ve had to seek.

This Thanksgiving Day

Is for us all to remember

We will always make it through

Somehow, someway.

For that, I am mostly grateful.

Thanksgiving Day 2016

Meeting in Punta Gorda: a nonet

 

Seeing each other after three years

Three not so easy years, but this

meeting again, time collapsed

There was joy and laughter

and plenty of tears

We have Common

Boundary

Deep ties

Love

The Fall

Journal Entry

I am holding the touchstone as I write and it brings me a lot of peace. I need it.

Based on my readings today, I took a “fall” — perhaps I took on too much or obsessed too much and it brought me here.

But the more likely explanation is I am not allowing myself self-compassion. My friend Kara reminded me yesterday during a well-timed phone call that I need to prioritize my own care.

I had been feeling so good, moving along, so positive. But then, as Albert Camus said:

…the perpetual impulse forward always falls back to gather new strength. The fall is brutal, but we set out again.

Jim’s memorial service buoyed me up for a long time. There was bound to be a fall. I appreciate what Camus has to say. Instead of feeling weak and like I can’t handle things, I know now is time for gathering strength. The fall helps me do that.

And then I am gifted with a daily reading from Regina Brett’s new book. Did you ever see a title more appropriate for my current life?

Her essay today was entitled “If it was supposed to be different it would be.”

Bam!

Regina tells of her brother-in-law who took a literal fall in a hotel shower while on vacation and became a quadriplegic. That’s heavy duty, but inspiring. He went on to live a fulfilled life, even published a book of poetry.

There is life after the fall. It’s just a little detour!

This, after all, is part of grieving and it won’t be the last time.

I got ahead of myself. I got to thinking too far in the future and trying to figure things out I had no business worrying about. Awareness — yes.  Anxiety — no!

The touchstone in my hand continues to have a calming effect. 

A big realization I had regarding how I got to the fall was that I ate all my meals alone last week, and that isn’t good for me. All other weeks, I got together at least one time with someone else. So that’s a warning flag! Fortunately, I have things lined up for this week.

I’m learning. Grounding back to remembering things have been, will be, and are exactly as they should be. If it was supposed to be different it would be.

Kacey Musgraves performed my favorite new song from her on the CMA Awards. It is called “The Architect” and I know I shared it before, but this is a sweet acoustic version. The song reminds me someone else is in charge (even as Kacey questions it.)

I cannot avoid the falls. There will surely be more as I navigate this new life. I need to keep doing the things that anchor me. Line up time with friends. Get a lot of rest. The best I can do is to be aware and listen well for guidance, because I know it is always there when I need it.

All in the right time.

What a Busy Week

It’s late Friday afternoon, and I’m just getting to this blog. It’s been quite a week, but I seem to be coming to the end of the long road of financial and legal matters. I’ve had several ideas on where to take this, but will keep it short and sweet.

I picked up Jim’s touchstone today.

This is a flat stone in a display I can take out and hold in my hand. It contains some of his ashes.

When I die, there will be one made in purple for me. Well, not for me…I guess for whoever wants it. It’s already paid for.

Which, by the way, I highly recommend making your arrangements and getting them paid for in advance. It saved me a lot of angst and trouble when Jim passed. I was able to pull out a card with his account number and phone number to call. Quick and easy. I have a friend whose husband died in June and she said going to the funeral home to make the arrangements was the worst. It was traumatizing to her.

Here is where the stone will sit when not in my hand. 

Now I’m working on building in a lot of “me” time as Thanksgiving week approaches. I am grateful my friend Pam has invited me to share dinner at Lexington Country Club on Thursday. My friend Iris will be in Siesta Key, so we will meet in Punta Gorda for lunch on Tuesday. Otherwise, I have books to read and shows to watch and I really need to get a walk in at Lakes Park during this cooler weather. I am doing my best to take small steps forward and enjoy life just as it is. 

Thank you, friends, for listening and sharing your thoughts. It motivates me to keep expressing here, which I truly believe is something I need.

Another Sunrise

Yesterday I faced some real truth

That I may not be able to stay in this home indefinitely

It is too costly and I will need to let it go

Sooner than I anticipated.

When I woke today I heard you say

It will be all right, It will be all right, It will be all right.

I got up, wrapped myself in your suede jacket

Sat on the lanai on this cool morning

And watched the peach sunrise

Rejoicing in the love we shared

As I watched the light change in the sky

And on the water

And I knew for certain

It will be all right.

Fleeting

 This morning on my way to get a warm-up on my coffee, I noticed the sky.

I took my coffee and granola bar out to the lanai, and sat with the sunrise. It was remarkable. I felt calm and brave. An osprey came and sat on the porch next door, keeping me company.

Then the osprey and the brilliant sky were gone. Another reminder on how fleeting beauty and companionship can be. Best to recognize it when it is here. My total time outside probably wasn’t much more than 5 minutes. This is what was left: